IMILING  &  CAMPIN 


I  i". 


i.'l 


APPISON  M.  POWELL 


THE  GIFT  OF 

FLORENCE  V.  V.  DICKEY 

TO  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

AT  LOS  ANGELES 


THE  DONALD  R.  DICKEY 

LIBRARY 
OF  VERTEBRATE  ZOOLOGY 


TRAILING 
and  CAMPING 
IN  ALASKA 


By  ADDISON  M.  POWELL 


NEW    YORK 

A  .  WESSELS 

1909 


Copyright,  1909,  by 
NEWOLD   PUBLISHING   COMPANY 

November 


THE   PREMIER   PRESS 
NEW   YORK 


This  narrative  is  dedicated  to  the  boys  who  clung 

to   the  alders  while   others   left,   condemning 

a    country    they    knew    nothing    about. 


S — *t^       550746 


INTRODUCTION 

Hiyu  Skookuntf 

That  is  the  Alaska  Indian's  expression  for  thyih- 
comparable,  and  it  is  here  used  because  the  white 
tourist  will  borrow  the  exclamation  when  he  stands 
amidst  the  largest  group  of  high  mountains  on  the 
globe — where  flowers  bloom  beside  the  most  won- 
derful glaciers  ever  seen  by  man;  when  he  looks 
upward  at  the  perpendicular  precipice  of  Mount 
Sanford's  southern  face,  a  mile  straight  above, 
where  eagles  flying  in  front  of  their  nests  resemble 
sparrows;  when  he  watches  the  spiral  smoke  and 
steam  of  Unaletta's  volcano;  or  when  he  gazes  at 
the  rainbow-colored  waterfalls  that  descend,  appar- 
ently, from  the  heavens. 

This  narrative  was  written  by  a  follower  of  the 
trail,  when  there  was  one  to  follow,  and  not  by  a 
follower  of  a  Longfellow,  a  Cooper  or  a  Stevenson. 
It  is  told  in  the  simple  language  of  the  trailers,  and 
unnecessarily  long  words  or  elaborate  descriptions 
have  been  avoided.  In  fact,  many  incidents  which 
were  commonplace  to  the  author,  but  which  might 
have  proved  interesting  and  unusual  to  the  reader, 
have  been  curtailed  or  withheld  in  order  not  to  in- 
terfere with  the  general  character,  or  to  become 
tedious  by  their  added  length. 


Introduction 


Hiyti  Skookum! 

The  mining  man,  also,  will  utter  it  to  express  his 
wonder  when  looking  upon  the  most  extensive  min- 
eral deposits  that  nature  has  ever  disclosed  to  view; 
when  watching  the  working  of  the  greatest  gold- 
quartz  mine  in  the  world;  when  realizing  that  If  all 
other  copper  and  tin  mines  were  closed  down,  Alaska 
alone  could  supply  the  demand;  and  that  her  in- 
fantile existence,  thus  far,  has  been  signalized  by  the 
production  of  three  hundred  million  dollars  in  value. 

The  statesmen  of  the  future  will  repeat  it  when 
Alaska  is  acknowledged  to  be  richer  in  mineral 
wealth  than  all  the  states  of  the  American  Union 
put  together;  when  it  shall  supply  the  whole  of  the 
United  States  with  paper  from  its  spruce  forests, 
and  fish  from  its  waters;  and  when  they  appreciate 
its  marvelous  development  since  Secretary  Seward 
was  ridiculed  for  "  buying  an  ice  box." 

The  naturalist  will  exclaim  "  Hiyu  Skookum !  " 
when  he  beholds  the  prodigious  growth  of  its  vege- 
tation, or  the  bones  of  those  gigantic  animals  which 
once  wandered  through  its  forests  when  the  earth 
was  younger,  the  crust  thinner  and  the  climate 
warmer.  The  reader  is  invited  to  come  with  me,  in 
his  imagination,  and  camp  amidst  scenes  which  words 
can  but  partly  describe,  and  when  he  visits  Alaska 
in  person,  he,  too,  will  exclaim  "  Hiyu  Skookum!  " 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER   I 


PAGE 


I 


21 


Meeting  Captam  I.  N.  West  in  San  Francisco-De- 
cided to  Go  to  Alaska— The  Loss  of  the  Helen 
W.  Alma— Seattle  Experiences— A  Pleasure 
Voyage— Landing     at    Valdez 

CHAPTER  H 
The  Return  of  Captain  West— The  Hanging  of  Tan- 
ner—Big  John's  Experiences  with  a  Mule— A 
Trip  Down  the  Bay— The  Adventure  of  an  Im- 
prudent Man— A  Mutual  Understandmg  with  a 
Bear 

CHAPTER    HI 

Crossing  of  the  Valdez  Glacier-A  Profane  Old  Pros- 
pector—A Forest  Fire-Along  the  Shore  of 
Klutena  Lake— A  Tent  Town  of  Salmon-dryers 
— ^Arrival  at  Copper  Center 37 

CHAPTER   IV 

Starting  for  the  Alaskan  Range-Swimming  Horses 
Across  the  Copper  River— An  Indian  Who  Had 
Never  Seen  a  White  Man— A  Marvelous  Ex- 
hibition of  Aurora  Borealis— The  Slahna  River 
Country— Mentasta  Pass 50 

CHAPTER   V 
Among  the  Beaver  Ponds— A  Porcupine  for  Break- 
fast—Indian   Albert's    Camp— Creeping    Up    to 
the  Wrong  Bear— Back  to  the  Slahna— A  Battle 
with   a   Raft   and   the   Rapids 05 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER   VI 

PAGE 

Boating  'down  the  Copper  River — Through  the 
Rapids — Cutting  a  Rope  with  a  Bullet — By 
Eyak  back  to  Valdez — A  Survey  in  a  Snow- 
storm— Death  of  the  Glacier-mushers     ...       77 

CHAPTER   Vn 

A  Rough-sea  Voyage — A  Pioneer's  History  of  Juneau 
— How  Juneau  got  its  Name — The  Treadwell 
Mines — Social  Hotel  Companions — The  Tarku 
Winds    . 97 

CHAPTER   Vni 

A  Trip  to  Skagway — ^A  Snoring  Medley — Interview- 
ing an  Old-timer — His  Love  for  His  Dog — Rid- 
ding the  Town  of  the  "  Soapy  Smith  Gang  " — 
The  Murder  of  Bert  Horten  and  Wife     .      .      108 

CHAPTER    IX 

A  Voyage  to  Sitka — Its  Description  and  History — 
Interesting  old  Block  Houses — Attending  a 
Funeral — The  Greek  Catholic  Church — A  Beau- 
tifully  Painted   Picture 121 

CHAPTER   X 

Indian  Totem  Poles — A  Poetical  Spot — A  Pictur- 
esque Old  Highway — Mt.  Edgecomb — A  Visit  to 
Yakutat — Indian  Girls  Selling  Trinkets  Aboard 
our  Steamer 133 

CHAPTER   XI 

The  Visit  of  Scientists  to  Alaska — The  Return  to 
Valdez — A  Brave  Rescue — I  Act  as  Guide — A 
Chafing  Restraint — Others  Rush  to  the  Tanana     138 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER   XII 

FAOB 

Missing  a  Bear — Exploring  the  Tekeil — Killing  a 
Goat — The  Perilous  Voyage  of  Five  Adven- 
turers— A  Sociable  Bear — Starting  on  an  Ex- 
ploring Trip  into  the  Alaskan  Range     .      .      .      146 

CHAPTER   XIII 

In  the  Alaskan  Range — The  Indian  Gokona  Charley 
—In  Sight  of  Captain  West's  Placers— The 
Snow-storm — The  Ptarmigans — A  Perilous  Re- 
turn       


160 


CHAPTER   XIV 

The  Rush  of  1900 — A  Remarkable  Boy — The  Loss 
of  the  Schooner — A  Musical  Prodigy — Astonish- 
ing an  Indian — Astonished  by  an  Indian      .      .      i74 

CHAPTER   XV 

Exploring  During  the  Summer  of  1900 — Ed.  Dicky's 
Placid  Temperament — Arrival  at  Slate  Creek — 
A  Peculiar  Electric  Storm — On  the  Head 
Waters  of  the  Gokona — A  Soliloquy       .      .      .      186 

CHAPTER    XVI 

The  Doctor  and  his  Porcupine — One  Source  of  Two 
Rivers — Killing  Two  Bears  and  a  Caribou — By 
Slate  Creek  to  the  Source  of  the  Tanana — 
Crossing  the  Captain  West  Mud-glaciers — Kill- 
ing Two   Mountain  Sheep i99 

CHAPTER   XVII 

A  Grizzly  Bear  and  a  Foot-race — Exploring  on  the 
Nabezna  River — A  Lonely  Grave  and  Its  His- 
tory— The  Suslota  Indians — The  Return  to  the 
Coast — Buying  a  Skeleton  of  a  Horse     .      .      .      212 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER   XVIII 

FAOE 

The  Exhausted  Stampeder — A  Forest  Fire — At  Slate 
Creek — On  the  Head-waters  of  the  Shusitna 
River — Discovering  Both  Coal  and  Gold — Back 
to    Hospital    Camp      .      . 223 

CHAPTER   XIX 

Killing  Two  Caribou — Meeting  a  Tenderfoot — 
Quiggly  up  a  Tree— r-The  Colonel's  Story — The 
Rolling-hill  Country — Summer  Experiences  of 
Alaska    Prospectors 235 

CHAPTER    XX 

"  Shorty "  Fisher  Shot  by  an  Indian — A  Terrible 
Experience  While  Descending  the  Copper  River 
— The  Dangerous  Ice-field — A  Diet  of  Dog — 
Drifting  Out  to  Sea — Bob  Young's   Dream      .      249 

CHAPTER      XXI 

In  the  Chitina  River  Country — Chititu  Placers — The 
Photographing  Party — The  Discovery  of  the 
Bonanza  Mine — A  Great  Copper  Nugget — 
Prospecting  Alone 259 

CHAPTER  XXII 

Killing  a  Mountain  Sheep — Temperament  of  Wild 
Animals — Good  Morning  to  a  Wolverine — Re- 
crossing  the  Copper  River — Entertained  by  In- 
dians— The   Return   to   the   Coast     ....     266 

CHAPTER    XXIII 

The  Ahtnas,  or  Stick  Indians — Their  Marriages  and 
Superstitions — A  Familiar  Wail — An  Interest- 
ing Peace  Talk — A  Philosophical  Indian — His 
Prophecy 282 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER    XXIV 

PAOE 

To  the  Head-waters  of  the  Tanana — Three  Bears — 
Killing  a  Mountain  Goat — The  Tanana  Indians 
— A  Foolish  Experiment  with  a  Grizzly — Agri- 
culture in  the  Copper  River  Valley     ....      296 

CHAPTER   XXV 

A  Night's  Experiences — Killing  a  Grizzly — The 
Wolverine — A  Fish  Story — Experiences  of 
James  Germansen — Killing  Six  Mountain 
Goats 310 

CHAPTER   XXVI 

The  Life  of  the  Mountain  Goat — Watching  One 
Make  His  Escape — A  Female  Grizzly  with  Three 
Cubs — Killing  a  Black  Bear — Six  Men  Shot  in 
Keystone     Canyon — Other     Fatalities     .      .      .      327 

CHAPTER   XXVII 

Reminiscences  and  Campfire  Stories — Chris  and  Nick's 
Bear-fight — The  Bear-hunted  Doctor  and  His 
Mischievous  Companion — Easy  Marks  in  Seattle 
— Big   Ben   and    His  Raft 340 

CHAPTER   XXVIII 

Leaving  a  Wonderland — The  Storm — ^The  Singers — 
Icy  Straits — The  Inside  Voyage — Evidences  of 
Prehistoric   Mining   in    Alaska 356 

CHAPTER    XXIX 

A  Detective — Some  Statistics — Down  to  California — 

The   End   of    the   Trail         369 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Mt.  Wrangell Frontispiece 

Valdez facing  page    21 

"Little  Dog  Pete" 27 

Reflection  in  Valdez  Bay 32 

A  Glacier  Crevasse 38 

Horses  Swimming  Copper  River 50 

Mt.  Drum  (seen  through  telescope) 56 

Fording  a  Dangerous  Glacier  Stream 62 

The  Banks  of  the  Copper  River yy 

Juneau    100 

Skagway  108 

Sitka,  Indian  Avenue,  Greek  Church 130 

Totem  Poles  at  Wrangell 134 

Keystone  Canyon  144 

A  Lake  Scene 1 59 

Among  the  Mountains  of  the  Alaskan  Range 164 

Valdez,  As  We  Left  It 182 

Eselota  and  His  Family 218 

Pack-Train  Crossing  on  a  Pole-Bridge 226 

Alaskan  Caribou  Swimming 233 

Camping  in  Copper  River  Valley 242 

The  Dangerous  Ice-Field 251 

The  "Bonanza"  Copper  Deposit 263 

Copper  Nugget  on  Nugget  Creek 265 

Skin  of  Alaskan  Grizzly 270 

An  Indian  Pack-Train 3(X> 

James  Germansen  318 

Camp  Comfort  Roadhouse 327 

Telling  Camp-Fire  Stories 340 

Greenville  Channel 365 


TRAILING   AND   CAMPING 
IN   ALASKA 


Trailing  and  Camping  in  Alaska 


CHAPTER    I 

He  has  not  lived  in  vain  who  has  caused  a  smile  to 
blossom  on  the  face  of  another. 

It  was  partly  because  of  that  favorite  motto  of 
mine  that  this  narrative,  which  is  descriptive  of  ten 
years  spent  in  exploring,  hunting  and  prospecting  in 
Alaska,  has  been  written.  Looking  backward, 
across  that  interval,  for  beginnings,  recalls  an  inci- 
dent that  occurred  in  San  Francisco  in  February, 
1898.  One  day  during  my  stay  there,  I  was  accosted 
by  John  D.  Ackerman,  who  was,  at  that  time,  Chief 
Clerk  in  the  United  States  Surveyors'  office,  and 
who  offered  me  an  opportunity  that  was,  indeed,  as 
agreeable  as  it  was  flattering. 

"  You're  the  very  fellow  I  want  to  see.  A  man 
who  is  going  to  Alaska  was  in  here  this  morning 
and  asked  me  to  recommend  a  Deputy  United  States 
Surveyor  to  go  north  with  him.  He  proposes  to 
bear  all  expenses,  but  he  requires  a  man  who  is 
accustomed  to  roughing  it  and  who  is  capable  of 
frontiering  it  alone,  if  necessary.  I  told  him  that 
you  were  in  the  city,  and  that  I  would  ask  you  to 
call  on  him  at  the  International  Hotel." 


2  Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

"  Who  Is  this  man?  "  I  inquired. 

"  He  is  Captain  I.  N.  West,  who  has  been  a 
prospector  and  quasi-explorer.  He  spent  three  years 
In  South  America,  and  two  in  Alaska.  One  year  he 
was  In  the  Shusltna  River  country,  and  the  other 
year  was  spent  In  the  Copper  River  region.  He 
claims  he  found  a  great  deposit  of  gold  and  now  is 
returning  for  It." 

"  When  was  he  In  that  country?  " 

"  I  believe  It  was  some  time  In  the  eighties." 

"Well,  It  sounds  rather  fakish  to  me,  but  I  shall 
call  upon  him  this  evening;  that  is  one  of  those  trips, 
you  know,  from  which  the  best  of  us  might  never 
return." 

I  called  on  Professor  Davidson  of  the  State  Uni- 
versity, and  from  him  obtained  Lieutenant  Allen's 
report  of  his  trip  through  that  country,  because  I 
desired  to  be  prepared  for  false  Information,  if  this 
I.  N.  West  should  be  inclined  to  give  It.  I  confess 
I  entertained  doubts  that  any  white  man  except 
Allen  had  ever  been  through  that  region. 

At  seven  P.  M.  I  called  at  his  hotel  and  found  him 
waiting  for  me.  Upon  entering  his  room  he  re- 
quested some  gentlemen  to  retire,  as  he  said  he  had 
important  business  with  me.  He  then  closed  and 
locked  the  door  and  moved  a  small  table  over  to  the 
back  part  of  the  room,  and  spread  a  blue  print  upon 
it.  Before  he  proceeded  with  the  subject,  he  desired 
to  know,  In  the  event  of  my  rejecting  his  offer,  If  I 


Trailing   and   Camping  in  Alaska         3 

would  agree  not  to  announce  his  secret  for  a  limited 
time.  He  inquired  also  whether  I  ever  had  been  be- 
wildered ;  what  I  would  take  with  me  on  such  a  trip ; 
the  kinds  of  guns  and  ammunition,  and  even  what 
kind  of  matches  I  would  take  along. 

During  our  talk  I  observed  that  he  was  a  man  of 
strong  features  and  mentally  pronounced  him  to  be 
the  one  man  among  a  thousand  who  would  dare  to 
undertake  such  a  trip  as  he  claimed  to  have  made. 
He  was  more  than  six  foot  tall  and  gave  his  age  as 
seventy-two  years.  He  said  he  desired  to  locate 
some  placer  ground  which  he  wished  to  have  sur- 
veyed for  patent,  so  that  his  family  would  be  bene- 
fited thereby,  as  he  expected  never  to  return  to  that 
fabulously  rich  eldorado.    He  said : 

"  Once  I  cleared  eighty  thousand  dollars  In  the 
Black  Hills  country.  I  let  my  family  have  all 
but  ten  thousand,  which  I  spent  while  looking  for 
another  rich  placer  deposit,  and  at  the  very  last  I 
found  enough  gold  for  all  of  us.  Although  It  was 
far  away  in  the  wilds  of  Alaska,  I  have  worked  for 
years  with  the  constant  expectation  of  returning  to 
it  some  day.  I  have  endeavored  vainly  to  get  finan- 
cial aid,  but  the  word  Alaska  has  scared  them 
away. 

"  I  failed  to  find  what  I  was  looking  for,  In 
South  America.  When  I  started  for  the  Copper 
River  country,  I  engaged  nine  Yakutat  Indians  to 
accompany  me.     One  had  been  In  that  country,  and 


4         Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

could  talk  the  Indian  language  of  that  region,  and 
he  could  talk  very  good  English.  We  skirted  the 
coast  until  we  arrived  at  a  point  about  half-way  be- 
tween Malispina  and  Behring  glaciers.  From  there 
we  packed  up  the  steep  mountain  range,  crossed 
glaciers  and  descended  a  creek  the  Indians  called 
Tana,  meaning  Trail,  River.  This  emptied  Into  the 
Chltlna  (Copper  River)  and  it  contained  some 
placer  gold,  but  owing  to  the  glacier  floods  it  is 
doubtful  if  it  could  be  worked  profitably. 

"  As  rapidly  as  the  stock  of  provisions  was  con- 
sumed, I  would  send  two  Indians  back.  I  con- 
tinued to  do  this  until  there  was  but  one,  my  Inter- 
preter, with  me.  We  ascended  a  river  called  the 
Chltistone  (Copper  Rock)  and  went  through  a  pass, 
south  of  Mt.  Wrangell,  over  to  the  head  of  White 
River,  crossing  to  the  head  of  the  Tanana,  and 
finally  to  the  head  of  the  Ahtna,  or  the  river  now 
known  as  the  Copper  River. 

"  At  the  southeast  end  of  the  Suslota  Mountains, 
on  the  Tanana  side,  is  where  I  tell  my  men  that  I 
have  found  the  gold.  Some  old  glacier  moraines, 
which  I  call  mud-glaciers,  are  there.  You  see  I  am 
compelled  to  tell  them  something,  and  if  I  should 
tell  them  the  exact  place,  they  would  mutiny,  and 
either  go  ahead  or  send  some  of  their  friends  to  beat 
me  to  it;  so  It  is  necessary  that  I  guard  against  such 
trouble. 

"We  lived  on  sheep  meat  and  wild  parsnip-root, 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska         5 

until  we  arrived  at  Suslota  Lake,  and  there  we 
obtained  all  the  dried  salmon  we  could  carry; 
after  this  we  had  fresh  salmon  nearly  all  the 
time. 

"  We  descended  the  outlet  of  the  Suslota  to  the 
Slahna  River,  and  there  got  a  boat  from  some  In- 
dians and  drifted  down  to  a  grassy  plot  where  there 
was  an  old  Indian  village,  about  three  miles  from 
the  Copper  River." 

"  The  maps  mark  the  outlet  of  the  Suslota  as 
emptying  Into  the  Copper  River  and  not  the  Slahna," 
I  said. 

"  There  are  no  correct  maps  of  that  country,  and 
Allen  might  have  assumed  It  did  that,  but  I  say  It 
empties  into  the  Slahna  about  eight  miles  up  from 
the  mouth.  Now,  if  you  must  wait  for  an  appoint- 
ment for  Alaska,  as  you  say,  and  should  come  later 
with  a  horse,  I  want  you  to  come  direct  to  this  old 
abandoned  Indian  town.  You'll  find  horse  feed 
there,  and  I  shall  come  down  there  every  two  weeks 
and  pilot  you  to  the  discovery.  I  shall  blaze  a  Cot- 
tonwood tree,  facing  and  in  sight  of  the  old  Indian 
wickiups,  and  shall  write  my  name  there,  and  at 
the  foot  I  shall  bury  a  little  can  In  which  there  will 
be  a  note. 

"  Well,  we  descended  the  Copper  as  far  as  the 
Chlstochlna  River.  There  I  discovered  fine  gold 
coming  down  that  river,  so  we  hid  our  raft  In  the 
brush,  and  spent  two  weeks  up  at  the  source.    Now, 


6  Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

I  will  say  that  there  is  some  placer  up  there  some- 
where, and  I  am  going  to  leave  my  men  in  there  to 
find  it." 

The  peculiar  emphasis  with  which  he  said  this, 
together  with  the  twinkle  of  his  eye,  caused  me  to 
wonder  if  his  discovery  were  not  on  the  head  waters 
of  the  Chistochina. 

"  We  returned  as  far  as  the  Klutina  River.  From 
there  we  ascended  to  a  lake  which  is  about  twenty 
miles  long.  Of  course,  there  is  no  lake  marked  on 
the  maps,  but  it  is  there,  all  the  same.  On  the  west 
side  of  this  lake  I  am  going  to  attempt  to  ascend  a 
creek  that  leads  over  towards  the  Chistochina.  I 
believe  I  can  get  through  that  way.  From  that  lake 
we  crossed  the  glacier  over  to  Valdez  Bay.  We 
hoped  to  find  a  trading  post  there,  but  there  was 
none,  and  we  built  a  raft  and  floated  with  the  tide, 
about  twenty-five  miles,  to  where  we  arrived  at  an 
Indian  town.  We  were  taken  from  here  in  bi- 
darkies  to  Nutchek.  The  Jeanie  soon  arrived  there 
on  her  return  from  a  whaling  cruise,  and  on  It  I 
returned  to  San  Francisco. 

"  Now,  let  me  tell  you  something  about  the  dis- 
covery. The  Indian  found  the  first  nugget,  which 
he  picked  up  with  his  hand.  I  then  washed  out  con- 
siderable gold  with  my  pan.  I  had  to  take  it  down 
nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  where  there  was  a  little 
water  at  the  junction  of  another  creek.  We  found, 
on  the  mountain-side,  a  very  rich  pocket,  and  the  In- 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska         7 

dian  carried  the  gravel  down  In  a  sack.  I  continued 
to  wash  until  I  had  panned  out  about  six  hundred 
dollars.  The  only  thing  that  bothers  me  Is  the  scarc- 
ity of  water,  but  of  course  that  is  more  plentiful  In 
summer-time,  as  it  was  very  late  in  the  fall  when  we 
were  there.  Gold!  Why,  man — come  up  there  and 
I'll  pay  you,  not  only  for  your  trouble,  but  you  shall 
have  an  Interest  with  me,  for  there  Is  gold  enough 
for  all  of  us." 

"  What  direction  did  the  drainage  run  from  that 
mountain?  "  I  asked. 

"  The  gulch  draining  the  hillside  where  we  found 
the  gold,  ran  southeasternly  and  emptied  Into  a 
creek  that  ran  westward.  Now,  what  do  you  say  to 
the  proposition?  " 

To  this  I  answered: 

"  To-morrow  I  shall  bring  a  friend  with  me  by  the 
name  of  Stephens.  I  want  you  to  meet  him,  so 
that  you  can  leave  any  word  with  him  for  me  when 
up  at  Valdez  Bay.  I  shall  see  him  off  on  the  next 
boat  with  my  outfit,  except  my  horse.  I  shall  write 
my  application  to  be  appointed  Deputy  Mineral 
Surveyor  for  Alaska,  for  the  purpose  of  surveying 
out  some  mining  claims  of  I.  N.  West.  That  will 
be  sent  off  to-morrow.  I  shall  be  In  Valdez  In  June, 
and  shall  attempt  to  cross  over  into  the  Copper 
River  valley  with  the  military  expedition  that  Is 
going  in  there." 

I  wired  for  Stephens,  sent  up  my  application,  and, 


8         Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

within  a  week,  I  saw  all  hands  off  on  the  same  boat. 
Sherman  Stephens  wanted  adventure  and  so  did  I. 
Two  months  later,  I  was  on  my  way  to  join  the  gold- 
seeking  throng  that  was  rushing  northward,  and  I 
lingered  for  a  few  days  in  San  Francisco  before 
making  the  final  plunge.  While  there  the  cry  of  a 
newsboy  attracted  my  attention  and  I  heard  him 
say: 

"  Total  loss  I  The  Helen  W.  Alma  goes  down 
with  forty  souls  I  " 

This  old  boat  had  been  chartered  to  go  to  Valdez, 
Alaska,  but  when  it  struck  the  heavy  seaswells  it 
broke  up,  and  all  on  board  were  lost.  The  only 
sign  of  the  ship  that  the  sea  ever  gave  up  was  some 
rotten  driftwood  that  floated  on  the  surface. 

This  was  the  significant  beginning  of  a  life  where 
the  loss  of  one's  comrades,  I  afterwards  learned, 
would  be  a  common  occurrence.  About  every  old 
sea  relic  had  been  put  into  commission  to  accommo- 
date the  northward  rush.  A  short  time  after  this, 
the  Jane  Falkenbiirg  was  abandoned  on  the  coast  of 
Behring  Sea;  the  Jane  Gray  broke  up  in  mid-ocean 
and  many  lives  were  lost ;  and  the  Mermaid,  another 
old  sea-coffin,  was  wrecked  on  the  coast  of  Vancouver 
Island. 

I  traveled  a  thousand  miles  overland  to  Seattle, 
the  metropolis  of  the  northwest.  Never  again  will 
that  city  be  filled  with  such  a  mongrel  lot  of  tran- 
sients.     They   hailed    from    everywhere    and   were 


Trailing   and   Campjng   in   Alaska         9 

dressed  in  all  sorts  of  clothes.  What  the  merchants 
advised  them  to  buy  for  their  northern  trip  was  pur- 
chased without  question.  They  bought  furs  and 
striped  and  variegated  mackinaw  clothing,  and 
proud  of  their  purchases,  paraded  the  streets  in 
most  fantastic  costumes. 

I  attempted  to  demonstrate  that  "  a  fool  and  his 
money  are  soon  parted  "  by  purchasing  a  cigar  and 
burning  some  of  mine.  I  invited  a  short,  pumpkin- 
seed-shaped  man  to  have  one  also.  He  had  no  legs 
to  speak  of,  that  is,  they  only  had  sprouted  and  then 
had  evidently  become  discouraged  and  stopped 
growing.     He  said: 

"  How  mad  it  does  make  me  to  have  one  of 
those  gold-crazed  idiots  ask  to  what  part  of  the 
North  I  am  going!  Why,  I  came  near  whipping  a 
fellow  yesterday  who  asked  me  that  question.  I 
tell  you,"  and  his  neck  began  to  swell,  as  he  pounded 
his  left  hand  with  the  clenched  fist  of  the  other,  "  I 
am  going  to  remain  right  here,  for  no  other  purpose 
but  to  see  the  disappointed  expression  on  the  faces 
of  those  fooled  fellows  when  they  return  from  the 
North.    That  is  what  /  am  going  to  do !  " 

I  walked  over  to  a  friend  who  was  going  North 
and  said: 

"  I  have  discovered  a  curiosity  and  want  you  to 
examine  it." 

"  Is  it  an  animal?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes.    Do  you  see  that  stump  of  a  human  with  his 


10       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

hat  drawn  down  near  to  his  boot  tops  and  smoke 
puffing  from  under  It?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  you  will  do  me  a  favor  if  you  will  talk 
with  him  until  you  can  find  out  to  which  part  of  the 
North  he  is  going.  You  see,  he  is  trying  to  keep  It 
a  secret,  by  pretending  that  he  Is  not  going  North, 
but  you  can  explain  that  you  heard  that  he  posi- 
tively was  going.  You  should  be  able  to  worm  It 
out  of  so  short  a  sawed-off  block  as  that." 

"  I'll  just  enter  the  ring  for  one  round,  for  your 
sake,"  he  answered,  and  he  approached  the  man. 

They  appeared  to  talk  very  earnestly  for  a  while, 
then  again  I  noticed  the  swelling  of  the  little  fel- 
low's neck  and  he  began  to  pound  his  left  hand,  and 
I  heard  him  say:    ' 

"  I  have  told  you  three  times  that  I  am  not  going 
North,  and  by " 

I  had  turned  away,  and  failed  to  hear  any  more. 
Presently  my  friend  came  by  me  and  as  he  did  so 
he  muttered: 

"I'll  be  durned!" 

He  acted,  after  that  Incident,  as  if  he  thought 
I  was  trying  to  get  him  Into  trouble.  It  was  several 
hours  before  I  ventured  to  ask  him  what  luck  he  had 
had  In  getting  Information  from  the  man  who  lived 
so  near  mother  earth,  and  then  he  replied: 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  I  am  such  an  idiot  as  to 
want  the  reputation  of  being  whipped  by  that  little 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       11 

sawed-off  block  of  insolence  whose  excuse  for  living 
cannot  be  seen  below  his  hip-pockets?  " 

I  said:  "It  is  remarkable  that  a  man  In  Seattle 
should  openly  deny  that  he  cared  to  go  North. 
Would  you  believe  that  I  could  shoot  in  any  direc- 
tion without  hitting  a  man  who  intends  to  go  to 
Alaska  or  to  the  Klondike?" 

"  Are  you  going  to  shoot?  " 

"  No,  I  was  only  using  the  expression  in  a  com- 
parative way." 

"  I  guess  If  you  should  let  fly  Into  that  crowd 
across  the  street,  you  probably  would  wing  a  dozen 
of  them." 

And  I  walked  over  to  the  crowd  to  see  the  at- 
traction. It  proved  to  be  one  of  the  many  patented 
devices  for  "  saving "  gold,  for  sale  In  nearly 
every  block  In  town,  and  finding  ready  purchasers. 
Experienced  miners  walked  up,  peeped  at  the  ma- 
chine, smiled  and  then  walked  away.  There  was 
one  young  man,  however,  who  had  made  himself 
conspicuous  by  loading  an  express  wagon  down  with 
rockers,  plates,  etc.  My  companion,  who  had  been 
a  life-long  prospector,  volunteered  some  informa- 
tion, saying: 

"  My  dear  sir,  you  must  have  a  mine  already  dis- 
covered? " 

"  No,"  he  replied,  "  I  have  never  been  In  a  min- 
ing country  in  my  life." 

"  Then  wouldn't  it  be  advisable  first  to  secure  a 


12        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

mine  to  work,  before  making  such  extensive  pur- 
chases? "  was  asked. 

"  Now,  see  here,  old  fellow,  do  you  think  I'm 
fool  enough  to  be  going  North  for  fun?  Do  I  look 
like  it?  I  will  tell  you,  right  now,  sir,  I'm  going  to 
have  a  mine  before  I  am  in  Alaska  six  weeks." 

"  I  sincerely  hope  you  will,  but  are  you  not  aware 
that  an  ordinary  sluice-box  is  all  that  a  miner  needs 
for  washing  out  placer  gold?  " 

"  Very  well,  please  tell  me  what  a  sluice-box  looks 
like,  and  where  I  can  get  one,  and  I  will  buy  that, 
too." 

The  foolish  fellow  was  buying  everything  any 
one  suggested,  and  knew  no  more  about  mining  than 
did  his  shadow.  There  were  hundreds  of  that  par- 
ticular kind  going  North.  Seattle  hotel  men  and 
merchants  were  reaping  a  harvest.  Even  pickpock- 
ets were  doing  a  lucrative  business,  as  that  city  had 
a  so-called  Klondike  of  its  own.  The  few  days 
spent  in  Seattle  were  amidst  surging,  wild-eyed 
stampeders,  who  were  hopefully  roofing  castles  in 
the  air.  Most  of  those  visionaries  returned  from  the 
North  within  six  months,  dejected,  tattered  and  for- 
lorn. Indicating  by  their  appearance  the  many  hard- 
ships they  had  endured  and  their  dire  disappoint- 
ments. 

I  left  Seattle  on  May  12,  on  the  steamer  Valencia, 
with  my  outfit,  horses  and  hopes.  That  steamer  was 
afterwards  wrecked  on  the  coast  of  Vancouver,  Jan. 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       13 

25,  1906,  with  a  loss  of  133  lives.  We  glided  over 
Puget  Sound,  so  named  after  Lieutenant  Puget,  and 
landed  at  Nanalmo,  B.  C,  where  we  spent  a  day, 
coaling.  A  few  passengers  visited  the  mines,  while 
others  wandered  about  and  smelled  the  dogwood 
blossoms  as  large  as  saucers.  After  sailing  two 
days  along  the  coast  of  Vancouver,  and  other 
islands,  we  left  British  waters  by  crossing  Dixon's 
Entrance  and  entering  Alaska.  Dixon  was  another 
English  navigator  whose  explorations  assisted  the 
British  in  a  contest  with  Russia,  France  and  Spain 
for  the  Pacific  seaboard. 

,We  stopped  at  Hunter  Bay,  Alaska,  for  several 
days,  unloading  supplies  at  a  fish  cannery.  Here  the 
Indians  swarmed  over  the  boat,  and  peeped  in  at 
the  dining-room  and  cushioned  seats,  grunting  their 
astonishment,  and  clucking,  snorting  and  spitting 
that  gutteral  language  of  theirs  at  each  other.  The 
language  of  the  coast  Slwash  is  a  combination  of 
Chinook,  Aleut,  facial  grimaces  and  snorts.  One 
would  think  it  Impossible  to  talk  the  conglomeration 
without  choking,  unless  trained  to  It  from  Infancy, 
but  it  Isn't.  A  handsome  young  woman,  who  was 
teaching  a  mission  school  near  by,  came  on  board, 
and  the  fluency  with  which  she  exhibited  her  lin- 
guistic accomplishment  In  the  tongue  of  the  Siwash 
was  astonishing.  Such  an  attempt  would  have  given 
me  the  lockjaw. 

I  saw  a  white  squaw,  who  had  light  colored  hair 


14        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

and  blue  eyes,  possibly  a  quarter-blood,  sitting  In  a 
dug-out  canoe.  She  would  not  speak  a  word  of 
English  and  deserved  pity,  as  she  had  a  very  dark 
Indian  for  a  husband  and  several  equally  dark  chil- 
dren. 

This  Hunter  Bay  is  in  a  more  southern  latitude 
than  are  the  cities  of  Moscow,  St.  Petersburg, 
Stockholm,  Copenhagen,  Glasgow  and  Edinburg. 
From  Hunter  Bay  to  Point  Barrow,  Alaska,  the  dis- 
tance equals  that  from  Chicago  to  New  Orleans. 
From  here  to  Alaska's  most  western  Island  is  as  far 
as  across  the  United  States  from  Savannah  to  Los 
Angeles.  The  climate  of  Hunter  Bay  is  more  uni- 
form than  at  any  place  in  the  United  States  east  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  its  winter  is  warmer  than 
that  of  most  of  the  Southern  States. 

While  here,  the  slow,  continuous  rain,  so  charac- 
teristic of  Alaska's  coast,  began  falling.  We  pas- 
sengers went  hunting  and  killed  nothing.  We  be- 
came familiar,  however,  with  swampy  hillsides 
where  moss  held  water  like  a  sponge,  and  we  found 
devil  clubs  and  skunk  cabbages.  Devil  clubs  are  a 
thorny  exemplification  of  the  Imp,  and.  If  touched, 
will  leave  little  needles,  about  the  size  of  those  of  a 
cockleburr,  to  be  picked  out  of  the  fingers  for  a  week 
after.  The  skunk  cabbage  is  a  favorite  food  of 
wild  geese  and  ducks.  Occasionally  a  spruce  hen 
flew  among  the  trees,  and  deer  beds  were  seen  here 
and  there,  at  the  roots  of  the  hemlock  and  spruce. 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        15 

The  gloomy  weather  impressed  us  with  dismal 
forebodings,  but  our  Impressions  of  grandeur  and 
sublimity  were  yet  to  come.  When  we  left  Hunter 
Bay,  the  steamer  gave  three  long  whistles  that 
echoed  from  mountain  to  mountain,  from  canyon  to 
canyon  and  across  the  smooth  water. 

The  charm  of  Alaska  began  gradually  to  steal 
upon  us.  We  gazed  for  days  at  the  mountains  and 
their  reflections  on  the  water.  We  watched  the 
boiling  wake  of  the  ship,  the  ripple  forming  a  V, 
the  prow  of  our  boat  being  the  apex.  The  distant 
lines  of  the  ripples  washed  the  shore  on  both  sides. 
One  never  tires  looking  at  the  scenery  of  an  inside 
voyage  to  Alaska.  It  is  then.  If  ever,  one  enjoys  a 
good  smoke,  and  is  willing  to  share  the  pipe  of 
peace  with  all  mankind.  The  Inside  passage,  as  here 
referred  to.  Is  the  route  that  leads  behind  the  Islands 
from  Puget  Sound  to  Sitka,  and  is  away  from  the 
ocean  swells. 

We  glided  through  Wrangell  Narrows  and  past 
old  Fort  Wrangell,  where  the  Russian  Baron  Ferdi- 
nand P.  Von  Wrangell  defied  the  British  and  by  the 
firing  of  cannon  disputed  their  right  to  land.  His 
long  name  would  have  been  sufficient  for  me.  I  know 
I  could  never  fire  on  a  name  like  that.  This  act  of 
his  probably  saved  Alaska  for  the  United  States, 
for,  If  the  Russian  bear  had  been  less  aggressive, 
Canada  would  now  hold  the  preponderance  of  North 
America.    The  dispute  was  finally  settled  In  1839. 


16        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

Aggressive  Englishmen  show  great  self-reliance 
when  traveling  with  authority  from  home.  It  has 
been  said  that  Warren  Hastings,  when  he  went  to 
India  to  collect  a  fine  which  had  been  levied  on  the 
Rajah,  sent  for  the  Rajah  to  come  aboard  his  vessel 
and  he  came.  Hastings  was  more  fortunate  in  In- 
dia than  were  the  Englishmen,  Derzhaven  and  Ber- 
nard, in  Alaska.  They  sent  for  the  Chief  of  the 
Koyukans  to  come  to  their  camp  and  bring  them  his 
two  daughters.  This  chief  was  unused  to  being  sent 
for,  but  he  came,  declaring  that  "  the  salmon  would 
drink  blood  before  they  returned  to  the  sea."  Yes. 
He  came,  but  he  introduced  himself  by  cutting  out 
the  intestines  of  the  over-confident  Englishmen  and 
burying  their  bodies  on  the  bank  of  the  Yukon. 

Such  thoughts  came  to  us  as  we  glided  among 
mountains  clothed  with  spruce  forests  at  the  foot, 
and  their  bald  heads  with  white  caps.  The  scenery 
did  not  change  until  we  arrived  at  Sitka,  on  the  edge 
of  the  wide  ocean,  then  Alaska's  capital.  From 
Sitka  we  crossed  to  Prince  William  Sound,  and  for 
forty-eight  hours  our  vessel  rolled  and  pitched,  and 
so  did  we,  both  without  and  within,  with  no  land  in 
sight  except  the  distant  tips  of  Mounts  Fairweather 
and  St.  Ellas. 

A  dyspeptic  friend  of  mine  on  board  was  so 
sure  he  would  be  seasick  that  probably  he  had  been 
ill  with  apprehension  for  a  week  before  he  had  em- 
barked on  this  voyage.     He  retired  to  a  room  that 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        17 

the  purser  had  assigned  him,  evidently  for  the  pur- 
pose of  being  sea-sick,  but  it  was  not  the  room  his 
ticket  called  for.  I  had  endeavored  to  persuade  him 
to  go  ashore  at  Nanaimo,  at  Hunter  Bay  and  at 
Sitka,  but  he  would  not,  because  it  might  interfere 
with  his  expected  sea-sickness. 

He  and  the  purser  were  almost  mortal  enemies. 
He  stubbornly  demanded  the  room  that  his  ticket 
called  for,  then  occupied  by  some  ladies,  even  if  the 
purser  threw  the  women  overboard.  He  was  dis- 
satisfied with  the  unlucky  number  of  the  one  he  was 
then  occupying,  and  was  desperate.  With  a  resolve 
to  make  peace,  I  visited  this  invalid,  and  solemnly 
announced  that  the  purser  was  regaining  his  mind. 

"How  Is  that?"  was  asked.  I  had  done  this 
to  excite  his  curiosity,  and  therefore  continued: 

"  The  poor  fellow  has  become  nearly  Insane  from 
having  fallen  over  a  precipice  of  love,  and  fearing 
a  relapse,  his  people  have  secured  this  position  for 
him,  hoping  that  it  may  assist  him  on  the  road  to 
recovery." 

"  Are  you  positive  about  that?  "  he  asked. 

"  Certainly.  I  have  known  him  for  years,  and  am 
pleased  to  observe  that  he  is  recovering,"  I  an- 
swered. 

"  I  was  sure  that  something  was  the  matter  with 
him  all  the  time,"  replied  the  Invalid. 

Then  I  went  on  deck  and  accosting  the  purser, 
said: 


18        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

"  See  here,  purser,  that  Invalid  friend  of 
mine " 

"Hold  on  there!  "  announced  the  purser,  "he  is 
no  invalid!  " 

"  Yes,  my  dear  fellow,  he  is  in  mind.  Now  I  will 
give  you  this  information  in  strictest  confidence.  He 
bogged  down  in  pure  love  not  long  since  and  it  has 
so  affected  his  mind  that  his  people  have  sent  him 
along  in  my  charge,  hoping  that  the  change  and 
trip  would  benefit  him.  Of  course  we  know  he 
should  be  locked  up,  but  I  hope  that  in  time  he  may 
fully  recover.  I  am  telling  you  this,  so  that  you  may 
be  prepared  for  any  sudden  turn  he  may  take,  and 
hope  you  will  be  as  considerate  with  him  as  possible." 

"  Well,  well !  Isn't  it  singular,  I  never  thought 
of  that?  "  said  the  purser.  "  Why,  any  one  could 
see  from  another  ship  that  he  was  insane !  It's  just 
as  plain  as  day,  now.  Say,  I  am  much  obliged  to 
you  for  that  information." 

There,  I  had  gained  friendship  by  sinfully  lying, 
but  the  Good  Book  has  blessed  the  peacemakers.  If 
I  could  only  manage  to  keep  peace  between  these 
two,  I  was  satisfied.  The  next  day  I  visited  my 
friend  and  found  him  really  sick.  To  console  him 
I  told  him  that  Longfellow  had  loved  the  sea  so  well 
he  had  written 

"  How  often — Oh,  how  often 

I   have  wished  that  the   ebbing  tide 
Would  bear  me  away  on  its  bosom 
To  the  ocean  wild  and  wide !  " 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        19 

This  sick  friend  of  mine  then  raised  himself  and 
said: 

"  Longfellow  was  a  blamed  fool !  " 

The  conversation  was  then  turned  to  the  purser. 
He  assured  me  that  the  purser  was  rapidly  recover- 
ing his  mental  faculties,  as  he  had  visited  him,  and 
had  found  him  in  the  best  of  humor. 

When  again  we  were  on  quiet  water,  the  purser 
approached  and  said: 

"  Say,  that  was  a  capital  idea  sending  that  fellow 
up  here.  He  is  rapidly  getting  better,  and  he  is  a 
nice  sort  of  chap,  I  Imagine,  when  in  his  right 
mind." 

This  Incident  made  me  wonder  If  affairs  In  the 
world  would  not  turn  more  smoothly  if  each  indi- 
vidual treated  all  others  with  proper  regard  to  pos- 
sible mental  weaknesses. 

Another  personal  friend  on  this  ship  was  remark- 
ably tall  and  slim.  He  was  long  for  this  world,  but 
had  a  slim  chance.  When  we  were  on  quiet  water 
he  was  conspicuous,  but  he  absented  himself  so  suc- 
cessfully when  the  sea  was  rough,  that  I  entertained 
the  fear  he  had  fallen  overboard.  As  our  boat 
floated  smoothly  on  Valdez  Bay,  he  reappeared,  very 
much  resembling  a  rawhide  string  that  had  been 
watersoaked  and  then  stretched  to  its  limit  and  dried. 
As  he  stood  on  the  bow  of  our  vessel,  I  suggested 
that  the  people  would  imagine  he  was  our  flagpole. 
He  replied  dramatically  that  he  was  no  flagpole. 


20        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

but  a  living  demonstration  of  the  geometrical  per- 
pendicular. 

We  landed,  May  29,  1898,  in  the  little  tent  town 
of  Valdez,  which  is  about  three  thousand  miles  north 
and  west  of  San  Francisco.  At  this  time  my  only 
possessions  were  a  year's  supply  of  provisions  and 
twenty-five  cents  in  money.  The  only  cash  transac- 
tion that  I  performed  during  the  first  summer  in 
Alaska,  was  the  transferring  of  that  quarter  from 
one  pocket  to  another.  I  did  that  with  due  consid- 
eration, conservatism  and  business  acumen,  deliber- 
ately studying  the  possible  loss  through  bad  pockets 
and  otherwise. 


CHAPTER   II 

If  the  climate  of  Alaska  is  a  ionicj.  many  have  lost  their 
lives  taking  overdoses  of  it. 

Mr.  Stephens  came  on  board  and  Informed  me 
that  Captain  West  had  returned  after  a  vain  attempt 
to  reach  his  discovery.  He  had  become  very  111  and 
had  been  hauled  out  on  a  sled;  In  a  very  weak  con- 
dition he  had  been  placed  on  a  steamer  that  was  de- 
parting for  the  States.  He  had  asked  when  I  was 
expected,  and  had  murmured  : 

"  Oh,  If  I  only  could  talk  to  him !  " 

I  landed  the  next  day  after  he  had  departed.  It 
IS  probable  that  If  we  had  met  he  would  have  dis- 
closed to  me  the  exact  locality  of  his  discovery. 
However,  I  resolved  to  remain  with  the  country  and 
make  an  attempt  to  find  It,  and,  If  successful,  to  see 
that  he  or  his  heirs  shared  a  portion  of  It. 

The  Ice  had  broken  up  and  had  left  him  stranded 
in  the  Tazllna  country.  It  was  reported  that  West 
died  soon  after  arriving  home. 

The  great  Valdez  glacier  appeared  to  be  at  the 
edge  of  the  little  tent  town,  but  really  It  was  five 
miles  away.  The  mountains  appeared  scarcely  a 
mile  from  us,  and  from  twelve  to  fifteen  hundred  feet 
high,  yet  they  were  from  three  to  five  miles  distant 
and  from  three  to  five  thousand  feet  in  altitude. 

21 


22        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

About  four  thousand  people  had  landed  there, 
three  thousand  or  more  of  them  had  crossed  the 
glacier,  and  many  had  recrossed  during  the  last 
month  to  return  home  disgusted.  The  hungry- 
glacier  had  been  the  death  of  some  of  them  and  its 
cracks  were  gaping  for  more.  We  felt  that  we  were 
up  against  the  toughest  proposition  of  our  lives  and 
those  who  had  been  there  a  month  knew  that  we 
were. 

Most  of  those  who  had  come  to  prospect  were  no 
more  adapted  to  the  vocation  than  a  coyote  would  be 
to  herd  sheep.  That  Alaskan  trail  wound  over  the 
glacier,  where  young  and  old,  the  wise  and  other- 
wise, the  opulent  and  the  poverty-stricken  traveled 
together.  Primogeniture  labels  were  at  a  discount. 
Many  seemed  Inspired  only  by  the  incentive  to  es- 
cape from  that  eternal  bondage  of  civilization  which 
makes  servants  of  us  all — even  down  to  the  demands 
of  etiquette.  There  were  avaricious  dreamers, 
"  spirit-haunted  with  ominous  sounds  of  clink- 
ing coin,  and  the  metallic  laughter  of  grimacing  gob- 
lin accountants."  Men  of  talent  and  virility  were  on 
their  way  possibly  to  the  sacrifice  of  everything,  in- 
cluding their  lives,  among  those  mountains  of  soli- 
tude— and  all  for  the  alien  god  of  gold.  The 
strenuous  spirit  was  here  as  a  delirious  reality. 

There  were  a  few  amusing  incidents  that  occasion- 
ally relieved  the  homesick  ones  at  Valdez.  A  Colo- 
rado man  had  a  mule  which  Insisted  on  leading  every 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        23 

one  that  took  hold  of  his  rope.  The  obstinacy  of 
remote  generations  had  been  developed  to  this  final 
combination  of  horse  and  donkey,  where  Nature 
has  decreed  It  a  useless  waste  of  energy  to  allow  the 
joke  to  continue  beyond  the  mule.  One  of  the  picked 
men,  "  Big "  John,  who  had  been  detailed  with 
Captain,  now  Colonel  J.  R.  Abercromble,  of  the 
United  States  Army,  to  explore  the  Copper  River 
country,  possessed  the  one  cardinal  characteristic  of 
the  mule  which  enabled  him  to  hold  on  to  a  thing, 
but  It  was  with  difficulty  he  could  let  loose. 

It  was  decided  to  teach  the  mule  to  submit  to  the 
control  of  man  by  allowing  "  Big  "  John  to  do  the 
dictating.  As  "  Big  "  John  took  hold  of  the  rope, 
the  mule  concluded  to  do  some  dictating  himself. 
He  Immediately  started  down  the  trail,  which  had 
been  worn  about  three  feet  deep  In  snow  that  had 
not  yet  melted  away.  As  the  rope  tightened,  John's 
feet  went  high  in  air  and  his  back  acted  as  a  sled- 
runner. 

"  Here  we  go !  "  yelled  John. 

As  he  approached  our  tent  he  added: 

"  Here  we  come  I  " 

As  he  crossed  a  small  stream  of  water  and  scooted 
spray  on  his  locomotive  In  front,  he  loudly  an- 
nounced: 

"We've  crossed  the  creek!  "     Then  he  added: 

"Head  us  off!" 

Several  men  ran  to  where  the  trails  crossed  and, 


24       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

by  waving  hats  caused  the  mule  to  shy  at  right 
angles,  and  John  called  back: 

"We  took  the  other  trail!  " 

When  the  mule  and  John  were  finally  stopped, 
John  stood  up,  wiped  some  blood  off  his  hands  and 
remarked : 

"  We've  had  a  h— 1  of  a  time  1  " 

Those  soldiers  had  been  detailed  to  explore  the 
route  from  Valdez  to  the  Yukon.  They  were  con- 
spicuous in  their  efforts,  and  often  returned  from  ex- 
ploring trips  without  food  and  with  very  little  cloth- 
ing. 

Every  out-going  steamer  was  loaded  down  with 
the  quitters,  who,  as  prospectors,  were  helpless  in- 
competents. To  avoid  being  ridiculed,  they  pre- 
tended to  be  returning  for  horses,  larger  outfits  or 
more  assistance  from  home.  One  young  man,  to 
have  an  excuse,  said  he  was  returning  for  more  ciga- 
rette papers.  One  man  there  thought  his  outfit  com- 
plete with  five  sacks  of  beans  and  one  sack  of  flour. 
He  was  referred  to  as  "  the  Bostonlan,"  although 
he  said  he  came  from  St.  Paul. 

We  began  to  long  for  home  cooking.  One  crowd 
complained  to  their  cook,  "  Cockney  Jim,"  and  de- 
manded pie. 

"  Pie  I  "  exclaimed  Jim. 

When  he  recovered  from  the  shock,  he  stuffed 
dried  fruit  between  two  flapjacks  and  sewed  the 
edges  together  with  a  twine  string,  and  the  feat  was 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       25 

accomplished,  to  the  credit  of  "  Cockney  Jim  "  ever 
after. 

When  a  man  was  seen  whittling,  it  generally  was 
conceded  to  be  an  indication  that  he  was  going  out 
on  the  next  boat.  Hundreds  daily  trailed  into  town, 
so  foot-sore,  after  traveling  over  that  twenty-eight 
miles  of  solid  ice,  that  their  crippling  walk  caused 
them  to  be  referred  to  as  "  The  Glacier  Striders." 
Those  who  came  over  during  the  melting  of  the  snow 
had  lost  their  outfits,  either  while  boating  the  Klu- 
tena  rapids,  or  before  they  had  arrived  at  Klutena 
Lake. 

The  snow  that  covered  the  crevasses  had  become 
too  rotten  to  be  safe,  and  those  who  crossed  told  of 
jumping  cracks  with  spring-poles.  If  they  had 
slipped  they  would  have  been  put  in  cold  storage  for- 
ever, hundreds  of  feet  below.  The  glacier  was  a 
succession  of  sharp  ridges,  with  deeply  washed  ero- 
sions on  each  side,  which  made  them  nearly  im- 
passable. Men  who  crossed  over  claimed  that  all 
of  Alaska's  gold  would  not  tempt  them  to  do  so 
again.  They  had  felt  secure  while  crossing  in  win- 
ter, but  had  not  suspected  the  dangers  that  are  pre- 
sented in  summer. 

Two  men,  named  Eddy  and  White,  of  Los  An- 
geles, California,  to  obviate  the  necessity  of  going 
around  a  large  crevasse,  crossed  on  a  bank  of  snow 
that  was  clinging  to  the  opposite  side.  Often  the 
wind  drifts  these  snow-cappings  across   a  crack  in 


26       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alasha 

such  a  manner  that  it  is  thick  on  one  side  and  runs 
to  a  feather-edge  on  the  other.  At  this  place 
the  snow  had  melted  away  until  it  had  left  a 
space  of  four  feet  between  it  and  the  ice  on  their 
side. 

"  I  believe  I'll  test  the  strength  of  that  snow  by 
jumping  onto  it,"  announced  Eddy. 

"  Well,  if  it  doesn't  hold,  you  can  figure  out  why 
it  failed  to  hold  while  you  are  dropping  down 
through  that  cold  space  below,"  replied  White. 

"  I'm  going  to  jump  and  leave  the  figuring  to  you, 
so  here  goes!  " 

White  stood  in  trembling  astonishment  while 
Eddy  made  the  leap.  It  held!  Eddy  crossed  in 
safety  and  called  back: 

"Have  you  got  it  figured  out,  White?" 

"  Yes,  but  I  am  going  to  lighten  my  load  by  send- 
ing my  thoughts  to  heaven  before  making  that 
leap." 

White  followed  safely.  After  they  had  walked 
but  a  few  steps,  they  looked  back  and  were  amazed 
to  discover  that  they  had  jarred  the  snow  bank  loose 
and  it  had  fallen  in. 

The  unusually  late  snowfall  had  caused  slides  to 
descend  the  mountains  with  roars  of  destruction. 
Never  before  or  since  have  I  heard  such  roaring  as 
broke  the  silence  of  the  mountains  during  the  spring 
of  1898.  We  knocked  at  those  mountain  barriers 
for  admission  to  the  interior,  and  they,  like  the  gates 


"Little  Dog  Pete.' 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        27 

of  hell  described  by  Milton,  "  grated  harsh  thun- 
der "  in  response. 

While  some  people  were  camped  beside  the  trail 
on  the  glacier,  near  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  they 
heard  the  approach  of  an  avalanche.  Most  of  them 
escaped,  but  eight  were  dug  out  from  beneath  thai; 
snow-slide  and  two  were  dead.  One  profane  old 
prospector  cursed  when  he  heard  it  coming,  but  it 
was  too  late,  and  he  was  burled  under  it.  When  he 
was  rescued  he  cursed  again.  When  I  mentioned 
the  glacier  to  him  in  Seattle,  ten  years  after  this  In- 
cident, he  swore  some  more. 

There  was  a  little  Llewellyn  puppy  dug  from  that 
snow-slide.  He  came  out  with  his  head  and  tail  up, 
and  has  had  them  up  most  of  the  time  since.  He 
lived  to  acknowledge  me  as  his  friend  and  master, 
for  he  became  my  trail  companion  for  years.  He  Is 
retired  now  on  a  life  pension  In  California,  and  when 
we  meet  he  acts  as  if  he  thought  we  were  the  two 
best  dogs  that  ever  ascended  the  Copper  River. 

Connecticut  furnished  a  visionary  company  made 
up  of  persons  who  were  distinguished  from  the 
others  by  having  brought  a  steam-sled.  All  they 
wanted  was  to  have  the  right  direction  pointed  out 
to  them,  and  they  would  steam  over  the  glacier, 
ascend  the  Copper  River,  and  stampede  Indians, 
white  men  and  every  other  thing  encountered. 
Strangers,  after  looking  at  the  ponderous  affair,  re- 
tired to  a  safe  distance  with  an  expression  of  mis- 


28        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

giving.  When  the  machine  was  steamed  up  and 
properly  directed,  the  owners  looked  at  each  other 
disappointedly,  for  it  failed  to  move.  They  applied 
the  full  limit  of  steam  and  it  stood  still  some  more, 
while  the  joke  began  to  settle  on  Connecticut.  The 
citizens  should  preserve  that  steam  sled  from  van- 
dalism as  an  evidence  of  the  rushers  of  1898.  It 
had  the  record  of  being  the  first  automobile  in 
Alaska  and  was  never  guilty  of  exceeding  the  speed 
limit. 

Peace  and  good  deportment  were  the  general 
rules  here.  Although  there  was  a  man  hanged  for 
killing  two  others,  the  lesson  evidently  affected  all 
those  who  traveled  that  trail.  This  hanging  was 
performed  by  the  first  crowd  to  land  on  Valdez 
Beach. 

The  man  who  was  hanged  claimed  that  his  name 
was  "  Doc  "  Tanner.  He  had  joined  a  party  of  eight 
which  had  hailed  from  Massachusetts.  One  of  the 
number  by  the  name  of  Thorpe,  so  it  was  said,  had 
become  so  indolent  as  well  as  overbearing  towards 
the  quiet-mannered  Tanner,  that  the  final  culmina- 
tion was  a  shooting  scrape.  This  party  of  eight  was 
known  as  the  Lynn  party,  and  as  they  had  "  grub- 
staked "  Tanner,  because  he  had  camp-life  experi- 
ence, they  insisted  that  he  perform  the  drudgery. 

Thorpe,  Call  and  Lee,  members  of  the  party,  were 
in  consultation  about  dismissing  Tanner,  because  of 
the  scarcity  of  supplies,  and  turning  him  out  to  shift 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        29 

for  himself.  This  party  and  a  few  others  had  been 
the  first  to  land,  and  to  be  turned  out  without  any- 
thing at  this  time,  in  mid-winter,  meant  death.  Tanner 
overheard  the  conversation,  and  drawing  his  gun 
walked  into  the  tent  where  they  were  and  began 
shooting.  Call  and  Lee  were  instantly  killed  by 
being  shot  through  the  head,  but  as  the  candle 
was  extinguished  then,  the  third  shot  missed  Thorpe, 
who  fell  over,  and  he,  the  one  Tanner  most  desired 
to  kill,  escaped. 

Tanner,  thinking  he  had  killed  all  three,  surren- 
dered his  revolver  to  W.  S.  Amy.  There  was  a 
meeting  of  a  few  who  were  there,  and  Tanner  was 
given  a  fair  trial,  with  a  man  by  the  name  of  King 
acting  as  chairman.  After  Thorpe  was  sworn  and 
testified,  the  Judge  said: 

"  Tanner,  step  forward." 

Tanner  walked  to  the  front  and  quietly  began 
rolling  a  cigarette. 

"What  is  your  name?"  inquired  King. 

"  Well,  Judge,  I  guess  this-here  name  of  Tanner 
will  answer  me  for  the  rest  of  my  days,  which,  from 
the  looks  of  this  crowd,  seem  to  be  very  few,"  an- 
swered Tanner,  looking  straight  at  the  Judge. 

"  Did  you  hear  Thorpe  tell  his  story  just  now?  " 

"  Well,  I  guess  I  did." 

"What  have  you  to  say  to  it?  Did  he  tell  the 
truth?" 

"  Yes,  I  reckon  he  did,"  drawled  Tanner. 


30       Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  killed  those  men  with- 
out a  reason  or  cause?  " 

"  Well,  Judge,"  he  replied,  "  that  Is  just  accord- 
ing to  the  way  you  look  at  It.  You  see,  this-here 
bunch  of  shoemakers  picked  me  up  at  Seattle  when  I 
was  broke,  and  because  they  financed  me  a  few  dol- 
lars to  enable  me  to  get  up  to  this  God-forsaken 
country,  they  thought  they  owned  me.  They  seemed 
to  think  that  I  should  do  all  the  dirty  work,  and  I 
stood  for  It,  but  when  I  overheard  their  plans  to 
chuck  me  out,  like  a  dog,  and  cut  me  off  from  camp 
— me,  a  white  man,  with  nothing  but  this  cold 
white  world  about,  and  from  that  herd  of  maver- 
icks from  Massachusetts,  too,  why, — then  some  kind 
of  buzzin'  gets  Into  my  head  and  I  saw  red,  and  I 
just  swiped  out  my  gun  and  let  'em  have  it." 

At  this  statement  he  quietly  began  puffing  his 
cigarette. 

"  Is  that  all  you  have  to  say?  "  asked  the  Judge, 
after  a  moment's  silence.  "  Have  you  any  folks, 
or  Is  there  anything  you  wish  to  tell  about  your- 
self?" 

"  No,  I  reckon  not,"  replied  Tanner.  "  I  have 
been  kicked  from  hell  to  breakfast  ever  since  I  can 
remember,  and  there  are  none  to  sit  up  nights  wor- 
rying about  me;  so  If  you  fellows  are  going  to  hang 
me,  better  go  ahead  and  have  it  over." 

A  vote  was  taken,  and  It  was  decided  unanimously 
to  hang  Tanner.     He  was  led  to  a  leaning  cotton- 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        31 

wood  tree,  where  he  was  asked  for  his  last  statement. 
He  answered : 

"  Nothing,  except  that  you  are  hanging  the  best 
pistol  shot  that  ever  came  to  Alaska." 

Thorpe  attempted  to  place  the  rope  around  Tan- 
ner's neck,  but  appeared  too  weak,  and  trembled 
with  fright,  possibly  because  he  knew  that  he  in  a 
measure  had  been  to  blame.  He  was  pushed  to  one 
side  by  a  stronger  man,  and  soon  Tanner's  body  was 
dangling  in  the  air. 

His  body  was  burled  beneath  the  tree,  not  far 
from  where  were  burled  the  two  bodies  of  Call  and 
Lee.  The  true  name  of  Tanner  probably  never  will 
be  known,  but  like  many  another  man  whose  iden- 
tity has  been  lost  In  the  western  swirl,  his  friends 
will  never  learn  what  became  of  him. 

The  almost  continuous  sunshine  of  June  caused  the 
snow  to  disappear  quickly.  Vegetation  grew  more 
rapidly  than  would  be  expected  outside  of  the  tropics. 
Persons  from  southern  climes  cannot  realize  the 
rapid  growth  of  the  grass  during  Alaska's  summer. 
The  Alaska  salmon-berry  bushes  bloomed,  and  the 
magpies  and  robins  made  their  appearance.  The 
June  days  Increased  in  length  until  the  nights  were 
not  worthy  of  the  name.  Even  the  chickens,  that 
had  been  brought  up  there  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Beatty, 
appeared  to  me  to  become  bow-legged,  while  stand- 
ing around  waiting  for  darkness  to  Indicate  their 
roosting-tlme.    We  could  read  common  print  at  mid- 


32        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

night  on  the  21st  day  of  June,  and  it  was  as  much 
like  a  cloudy  day  as  it  was  like  the  twilight. 

I  took  a  trip  down  the  bay  in  the  company  of  two 
soldiers,  and  we  rowed  down  in  a  "  take-down  "  tin 
boat.  It  was  so  bolted  together  that  if  a  nut  should 
come  off,  or  a  bolt  break,  there  would  be  nothing  left 
to  hold  up  the  passengers  except  their  hats.  This 
trap  managed  afterwards  to  drown  two  men. 

The  accompanying  photograph  shows  what  an 
inhospitable  looking  country  this  was  for  persons  to 
pitch  camp,  yet  a  month  later,  at  the  time  when  we 
took  this  trip,  it  looked  very  differently. 

This  beautiful  land-locked  Bay  of  Valdez  quietly 
nestled  between  high  mountains  that  reflected  their 
outlines  in  its  mirror-like  surface.  The  wild  ducks 
rested  here  and  there  with  their  heads  under  their 
wings;  away  off  on  one  side,  near  the  shore,  a  flock 
of  sea  gulls  noisily  applauded  some  wise  remark  of 
an  old  coot;  and  the  voice  of  the  loon  could  be  heard 
above  the  others. 

We  had  crossed  a  stretch  of  nine  miles  of  water 
when  we  landed  on  a  grassy  nook  at  the  foot  of  a 
precipitous  mountain  spur.  After  supper,  one  of  the 
trio  attempted  to  climb  to  a  ledge  of  white  spar,  that 
plainly  could  be  seen  from  the  camp.  After  an 
hour's  hard  work  of  clinging  to  moss-covered  rocks, 
he  succeeded  in  arriving  at  the  place,  but  it  proved 
a  disappointment  to  the  prospector.  He  then  saw 
he  could  not  descend  without  eyes  in  his  toes.     If 


Trailing   and   Camping  in  Alaska        33 

he  could  ascend  a  few  hundred  feet  he  might  lower 
himself  down  a  draw  by  the  assistance  of  scattering 
alder  brush.  Another  hour  was  spent  In  getting  to 
that  place,  only  to  discover  a  precipice  In  the  ex- 
pected way  of  descent. 

There  was  another  slim  chance  left,  and  that  was 
to  continue  climbing  for  the  top  of  the  spur,  far 
above.  No  living  man  could  have  clung  to  the  face 
of  that  precipice  a  minute,  if  It  had  not  been  for  the 
moss  that  was  rooted  In  the  small  crevices.  He 
continued  climbing  until  about  lo  P.  M.,  when  he 
paused  to  look  down  on  the  campfire  and  the  water, 
far  below,  a  distance  of  fully  one  thousand  feet.  He 
felt  a  sickness  coming  over  him,  so  he  changed  his 
gaze  to  the  rock  wall,  a  foot  from  his  face. 

A  gun  was  fired  down  at  camp,  and  this  adven- 
turer clung  to  the  precipice  with  one  hand,  drew 
his  revolver  with  the  other  and  answered  it.  That 
would  prove  to  his  companions  that  he  was  In  hear- 
ing distance  and  not  calling  for  help,  for  If  so,  he 
would  have  fired  first.  He  was  not  directly  above 
camp,  and  the  loose  rocks  would  go  bumping  and 
tumbling  down  until  out  of  hearing. 

When  near  the  summit,  he  found  himself  against 
a  perpendicular  wall,  about  twelve  feet  high.  There 
appeared  to  be  a  small  bench  on  top  of  this,  where 
he  could  rest  If  once  there.  He  rested  on  a  large 
rock  that  lay  at  the  foot  of  the  wall;  with  his  knife 
he  then  cut  niches  for  finger  and  toe  holds.     Hold- 


34        Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

ing  on  to  these,  he  climbed  up  and  worked  at  dig- 
ging a  trench  through  the  moss  on  the  rim  above, 
so  that  when  up  there,  he  could  draw  his  body 
through.  He  was  compelled  to  descend  to  the  rock 
occasionally  and  brush  the  weight  of  detritus  from 
it;  for  that  shaky  rock  was  liable  to  fall  out  of  its 
position,  and  if  it  did,  his  life  would  be  lost. 

After  he  had  finished  his  work  above,  he  de- 
scended to  the  rock  for  a  long  rest  before  the  final 
effort.  He  then  nerved  himself,  placed  his  fingers 
in  the  niches,  and  drew  himself  from  the  rock  which, 
with  the  pressure  of  the  departing  foot,  said  good- 
bye and  went  bumping  down,  down,  down.  The 
man  was  left  clinging  to  his  niches,  hope,  future 
and  life  above,  with  jagged  rocks,  more  than  a 
thousand  feet  of  space,  the  deep  sea  and  sure  death 
below. 

Large  drops  of  sweat  came  out  on  his  forehead 
as  he  steadily  worked  up,  up,  and  held  with  one 
hand  while  he  dug  the  other  in  the  moss  above. 
Half  of  his  body  finally  rested  on  the  edge  while 
the  other  half  hung  in  space  without  a  foothold, 
and  it  seemed  impossible  to  extricate  himself  from 
that  position  until  he  spied  an  alder  an  inch  in  diam- 
eter, which  had  grown  on  this  little  flat  bench  appar- 
ently for  the  only  purpose  of  extending  assistance  on 
this  occasion.  Its  strength  was  tried,  and  it  enabled 
the  climber  to  pull  himself  up  and  to  rest  on  this  ten- 
by-ten  mossy  bed  alongside  of  the  alder,  where  he 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       35 

thought  of  childhood  days,  friends  far  away  and  his 
own  folly. 

There  was  but  one  way  out  of  this  place,  and  that 
was  along  a  narrow  shelf  about  one  hundred  feet  to 
the  westward  which  ended  on  the  sloping  ridge. 
There  was  a  perpendicular  precipice  below  and  a 
jagged  wall  above.  Along  the  side  of  this  wall  one 
could  rub  his  body,  by  holding  on  to  those  jagged 
places  and  watching  for  secure  footing  on  the  six- 
inch  path.  He  took  off  his  shoes  and  attempted  that 
sloping  path,  but  it  was  necessary  not  to  look  down 
from  his  dizzy  height  to  the  distant  campfire. 

The  feat  was  accomplished  finally  and  this  thank- 
ful mortal  lay  on  the  green  grassy  ridge  in  complete 
collapse.  His  aneroid  barometer  recorded  2140 
feet  above  the  sea,  and  his  watch  indicated  12.30 
A.  M. 

Alaska's  June  midnight  made  It  unnecessary  to 
light  a  match  to  take  those  readings.  He  then  at- 
tempted to  walk  out  on  a  point  where,  by  holding  to 
an  alder,  he  could  look  at  the  dizzy  scene  below,  but 
he  could  not, — he  had  lost  his  nerve.  Before  this 
incident,  if  I  had  been  told  that  a  man  could  scale 
that  precipice,  I  would  have  considered  my  informer 
— If  not  too  large — a  liar.  Eight  years  after  this 
Incident  a  young  doctor  fell  hundreds  of  feet  to  his 
Instant  death  while  attempting  to  climb  the  summit 
of  that  same  range. 

I  descended  along  this  spur,  swinging  from  one 


36       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

alder  to  another,  and  once  more  found  myself  on 
level  ground.  There  a  bear  and  myself  were  placed 
in  an  awkward  position,  but  by  judicious  manage- 
ment we  avoided  further  embarrassment.  He  snorted 
once  and  I  snorted  three  times;  he  ran  in  one  direc- 
tion and  I  ran  in  another.  Snorts  were  not  the  pass- 
words of  our  society.  I  arrived  in  camp  in  time  for 
breakfast,  and  a  third  solemn  resolve  was  made 
never  to  be  caught  on  the  face  of  another  precipice. 


CHAPTER    III 

Mosquitoes  have  hatched  out  on  glaciers  and  so  have 
other  kinds  of  trouble. 

Portable  bridges  were  placed  across  the  glacier 
cracks  to  enable  Lieutenant  Lowe  to  cross  with 
horses,  on  July  13.  Stephens  accompanied  him  on 
this  trip  with  the  first  pack-train  to  go  from  Valdez 
to  the  Yukon.  This  glacier  melts  away  at  the  lower 
end,  or  recedes,  about  60  feet  each  year.  It  is  prob- 
able that  it  was  breaking  off  into  the  bay  300  years 
ago,  and  in  about  A.  D.  2500  those  who  care  to  do 
so  may  be  able  to  ride  through  this  scarified  canyon 
without  encountering  any  ice,  but  we  belonged  to 
the  stampeding  age  and  could  not  wait. 

Napoleon's  cavalry  crossed  the  Alps  and  Aber- 
crombie's  crossed  the  Valdez  glacier.  This  ex- 
pedition, accompanied  by  several  adventurous  pros- 
pectors, left  on  the  5th  of  August.  The  amount 
of  first-class  profanity  that  gushed  from  ordinarily 
moral  men,  under  the  provoking  circumstances,  was 
astonishing.  The  same  voluble  profane  prospector, 
who  had  been  rescued  from  the  snow-slide,  was  with 
us.  He  laboriously  contended  with  the  argumenta- 
tive disposition  of  a  donkey  having  a  will  of  its  own, 
and  that  fact  added  materially  to  the  driver's  al- 
ready extensive  vocabulary. 

37 


38       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

The  old  prospector  slipped  upon  his  first  attempt 
to  climb  the  ice,  and  then  and  there  he  opened  his 
dictionary  of  profanity  and  swore  that  he  never  was 
moral  and  never  intended  to  be.  A  neatly  dressed 
young  lady,  who  was  taking  camera  pictures  with 
the  party,  happened  to  be  near  when  there  was 
trouble,  and  she  heard  swearing  according  to  ritual. 
All  kinds  of  maledictions  were  applied  to  the  donkey, 
which  had  a  good  case  of  libel,  for  he  reflected  upon 
her  moral  character  and  endowed  her  with  certain 
attributes  of  the  cow.  When  he  discovered  the 
camera  girl  within  a  few  feet  of  him,  the  old  pros- 
pector apologized  by  swearing  he  "  didn't  know  a 
woman  was  along." 

That  effort  was  too  much  for  him,  however, 
for  he  slipped,  fell  and  slid  several  feet,  and  then 
he  "  did  "  swear  in  earnest.  The  ice  was  an  ethereal 
blue,  but  not  half  so  highly  colored  as  was  the 
atmosphere  immediately  surrounding  that  pros- 
pector. 

"  A  picture  of  this  scene  would  be  incomplete 
without  a  phonograph,"  she  remarked  as  she  walked 
away. 

All  day  we  trudged  on  solid  ice  and  jumped  yawn- 
ing crevasses.  We  camped  on  the  ice  during  that 
short  August  night,  as  it  was  too  dark  to  travel.  The 
spring  snow-slides  and  glacial  hydraulics  had  de- 
posited huge  boulders  on  this  ice  river,  and  they  had 
melted  large  wells  straight  down.     A  few  of  those 


A  Glacier  Crevasse. 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        39 

wells  were  closed,  or,  like  an  inverted  cone,  had 
gradually  narrowed  to  a  point  and  now  were  filled 
with  water.  The  rock  that  had  formed  this  kind 
of  a  well  had  melted  its  way  down,  while  the  well 
had  closed  gradually  behind  it  by  freezing.  Streams 
of  water  poured  into  the  apparently  bottomless  ones, 
and  into  some  of  those  we  dropped  large  rocks,  but 
never  heard  one  strike  bottom. 

The  glacial  hydraulic  is  caused  by  a  pressure  of 
water  brought  down  beneath  the  ice,  and  forced  up 
through  some  crack.  When  this  occurs,  gravel  and 
sometimes  large  rocks  are  forced  to  the  surface  and 
are  deposited  in  ridges  along  the  cracks. 

Those  of  us  who  had  sleeping  bags  managed  to 
secure  a  little  sleep,  but  those  without  them  were 
compelled  to  walk  to  and  fro  in  the  cold  wind  and 
rain  to  keep  warm. 

The  next  day  we  crossed  the  divide  at  5,000  feet 
altitude  in  a  blinding  snow  storm.  At  this  altitude 
and  under  these  conditions,  one's  heart  action  is 
about  as  irregular  as  the  stroke  of  a  single-cylinder 
gas  engine.  In  a  similar  blizzard,  about  a  month 
later,  a  man  by  the  name  of  Skelly,  from  San  Jose, 
California,  was  frozen  to  death.  I  broke  through  a 
crust  of  snow  that  covered  a  crevasse,  and  with  one 
leg  swinging  around  in  space  beneath,  declared  I 
never  again  would  attempt  to  cross  that  glacier.  A 
strong  wind  pushed  us  along  with  almost  irresistible 
force  down  the  descent  of  the  Coast  Range,  and  at 


40       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

night  we  camped  in  timber  near  the  foot  of  the 
glacier. 

The  profane  prospector  became  very  weary,  and 
a  man  invited  him  to  ride  his  saddle  horse  down  the 
descent.  The  cinch  became  loosened,  and  when  the 
saddle  was  on  the  horse's  neck  the  old  man  remarked 
that  he  believed  he  would  alight.  Just  as  he  said 
this,  he  and  saddle  slipped  over  the  horse's  head. 
After  rolling  and  sliding  some  distance,  the  pros- 
pector managed  to  stand  up  and  demonstrate  that 
he  was  physically  able  to  swear.  He  spread  pro- 
fanity all  over  that  part  of  the  glacier.  It  really 
dripped  from  his  mouth  when  he  stopped  to  get  his 
breath. 

This  Coast  Range  stands  on  end.  Geologists  do 
not  agree  that  it  is  the  same  mountain  chain,  because 
it  has  not  the  formation  that  the  Coast  Range  pos- 
sesses farther  down  the  coast.  In  respect  to  the 
meaning  of  the  term  Coast  Range  and  their  loca- 
tion of  it,  they  are  diverted  in  their  opinions.  A 
prospector  who  visits  these  mountains  should  bring 
a  photograph  of  the  sun  with  him,  as  well  as  a  div- 
ing suit;  but  the  most  useful  article  would  be  a  fly- 
ing machine. 

We  traveled  along  the  banks  of  a  glacier  stream 
where  the  water  was  colored  milky,  caused  by  the 
rock  erosion,  and  was  almost  too  dense  and  cold  to 
swim  in.  Glacier  water  is  just  about  as  clear  as 
mud.    Alaskans  claim  that  he  who  drinks  of  it  takes 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       41 

upon  himself  ever  after  the  reputation  of  being  un- 
able to  tell  the  truth.  At  Valdez  a  few  of  such  ini- 
tiated ones  organized  themselves  into  a  mining  com- 
pany which  they  properly  named  "  The  Goldbrick 
Consolidated."  When  selecting  a  witness  to  verify 
my  statements,  I  ascertain  first  if  he  has  imbibed 
sufficiently  of  the  glacier  beverage. 

We  rested  a  day  at  a  camp  called  Twelve  Mile. 
A  man  was  drowned  there  in  two  feet  of  water.  The 
thick  and  swift  glacier  water  rolled  him  over  and 
over  until  he  was  drowned,  and  in  sight  of  his  com- 
panions. At  this  camp  there  were  two  head  boards 
Inscribed  with  the  names  of  E.  Vananthrope  and  J. 
Tournler,  who  died  in  the  snow-slide  of  April  30, 
1898. 

We  traveled  along  swamp  hillsides,  and  then  along 
a  deep  slough  where  we  drowned  a  horse.  We 
camped  on  Aug.  12  in  what  was  once  a  beaver  pond, 
but  as  the  water  had  drained  away  It  was  now  a  pas- 
ture of  red-top  grass  as  high  as  our  horses'  backs.  A 
clear  brook  ran  out  of  this,  and  there  we  caught 
many  grayling  trout.  This  was  truly  a  romantic 
spot,  such  as  would  be  conducive  to  poetical  writing, 
if  one  were  lyrically  inclined.  I  am  not  so  endowed 
by  nature,  yet  I  appreciate  short-worded  and  musical 
poems.  Such  lines,  for  Instance,  as  those  of  Robert 
Burns's  describing  the  natural  encounter  in  the  field, 

"  Gin   a  body  meet  a  body 
Comin'  through  the  rye," 


42       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

appeal  to  me,  and  I  believe  those  simple  lines  will 
be  quoted  and  sung  long  after  Sterling's  poetical 
flight  of 

"  The  blue-eyed  vampire,  sated  at  her  feast, 
Smiles  bloodly  against  the  leprous  moon," 

has  died  from  the  lingering  effects  of  a  distorted 
imagination. 

We  remained  there  and  scouted  for  the  best  trail 
route.  While  I  was  crawling  through  brush  and 
"  devil  club  "  that  clung  to  me  like  debts,  I  heard  the 
noise  of  a  large  animal  breaking  away.  I  soon  ar- 
rived at  an  animal  bed  that  was  still  warm ;  the  long 
claw  marks  indicated  that  the  recent  occupant  had 
been  a  grizzly.  As  my  hands  felt  the  warmth  In  the 
abandoned  bed  I  felt  lonely  and  homesick,  so  I  re- 
turned very  deliberately  to  camp,  occasionally  look- 
ing back  for  the  bear. 

This  camp  was  surrounded  by  a  heavy  forest  of 
spruce  that  was  on  fire.  At  night  the  flames  would 
leap  to  the  treetops  with  a  roar,  then  calm  down, 
and  presently  another  tree's  foliage  would  repeat 
the  roaring,  cracking  and  popping.  This  red  glar- 
ing night  scene  was  wild  and  enchantingly  beautiful. 

We  soon  arrived  at  Klutena  Lake,  and  traveled 
along  its  shore  for  four  days  through  timber  and 
along  gravelly  beaches.  This  lake  extends  from 
spruce-covered  hills  on  the  east,  to  low  spruce  lands 
on  the  west,  while  back  of  the  latter  were  high  snow- 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        43 

capped  mountains.  Even  the  lake  water  was  a 
milky  color,  but  clear  streams  entered  into  It  and  up 
these  ventured  large  red  salmon.  When  frightened, 
they  would  dart  back  into  the  lake,  only  to  reappear 
directly.  I  stood  on  the  bank  while  they  ventured 
so  near  that  I  shot  five  from  one  position  and  soon 
had  enough  for  supper  for  the  whole  crowd. 

James  Garrett,  a  private  from  San  Francisco,  was 
one  of  those  benevolent  individuals  who  are  always 
endeavoring  to  smooth  the  pathway  of  others.  If 
a  man  were  kicked  by  a  horse  or  had  lost  a  gun,  Gar- 
rett would  advise  him  to  forget  it  by  reflecting  upon 
the  valuable  experience  he  was  receiving  in  Alaska. 

Another  day  of  fatiguing  march  brought  us  to  St. 
Anne  creek.  The  summer  nights  were  now  dark,  and 
we  groped  along  until  midnight  before  we  unpacked 
in  camp.  At  one  place  Garrett  was  ahead,  feeling  for 
a  dim  trail,  when  I,  who  was  following  as  lead  horse- 
man, saw  star  reflections  in  front  and  realized  that 
I  was  hesitating  on  the  brink  of  a  stream.  Garrett 
called  to  me  good-naturedly  from  the  other  side  to 
jump  as  far  as  I  could,  explaining  that  it  was  rather 
deep  on  that  side  and  I  might  get  my  feet  wet. 
Obeying  his  instructions  I  made  a  respectable  leap 
into  water  up  to  my  waist,  while  Jim  laughingly  ex- 
plained that  it  was  necessary,  as  we  could  not  afford 
to  hesitate.  Comprehending  the  situation,  I  pro- 
ceeded to  look  for  the  trail  while  Jim  "  jumped  " 
them  in.     I  could  hear  him  giving  instructions  about 


44        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

the  danger  of  getting  their  feet  wet,  if  they  failed 
to  make  a  good  jump.  This  was  followed  by  a 
splash,  but  not  so  loud  as  the  imprecations  hurled  at 
their  Instructor.  Jim  said  later,  when  drinking  cof- 
fee in  camp,  and  it  was  safe  for  him  to  speak,  that 
it  was  the  most  ungrateful  crowd  of  poor  jumpers 
he  had  ever  assisted.  They  had  even  cussed  him  for 
assisting  them  across  the  creek. 

I  visited  a  camp  of  some  men  who  had  been  there 
since  the  winter  rush.  I  asked  one  of  them  if  ever 
he  had  known  Captain  West.  I  did  this  because 
West  had  told  me  in  San  Francisco  that  It  was  here 
he  intended  to  leave  the  shore  of  the  lake  and  cut 
across  to  the  headwaters  of  the  Chistochina  River. 
The  man  replied: 

"  Know  that  old  humbug!  Well,  I  reckon  I  do  I 
If  it  had  not  been  for  that  old  scoundrel  we  should 
not  be  camped  here.  We  stopped  here  to  dog  his 
trail,  as  we  had  heard  that  he  was  after  something 
he  once  had  found.  We  kept  a  delegation  in  sight 
of  his  every  move  for  a  month.  The  old  liar  never 
saw  this  country,  and  we  certainly  should  have  shot 
him  before  he  got  out  of  It." 

"  Why,  my  dear  fellow,  he  never  asked  you  to  fol- 
low him;  besides  he  might  think  the  same  of  you 
for  dogging  his  trail.  You  say  he  never  was  in  the 
country  prior  to  this  time,  but  I  have  heard  that  he 
piloted  a  crowd  that  got  lost  and  wanted  to  go 
wrong,  safely  over  the  glacier  when  it •" 


Trailing   and   Camping  in  ^Alaska       45 

"  Yes,  but  that  was  just  an  accident.  If  I  had  had 
my  way,  he  never  would  have  got  out  of  this  coun- 
try alive," 

That  shows  how  unreasonable  some  men  can  be, 
and  indeed  I  found  numbers  of  them  who  could  not 
say  enough  against  West.  They  pronounced  him 
a  humbug  and  a  fraud  who  was  working  for  the 
transportation  companies. 

The  next  day  we  traveled  along  the  lake  shore, 
where  gulls  swooped  and  snipes  flitted  near  the 
water,  which  was  disturbed  by  the  lashings  of  sal- 
mon. We  arrived  at  a  tent-town  where  there  were 
146  tents  and  84  row-boats.  The  outlet  was  a  deep, 
slow-running  stream  for  about  five  miles,  but  from 
that  point  the  rapids  began.  The  occupants  of  that 
town  were  drying  salmon,  not  prospecting.  We 
found  there  Robert  Hoffman,  of  Brooklyn,  New 
York,  with  his  jaw  broken  in  five  places  by  an  en- 
raged grizzly.  Subsequently  he  died  from  the  in- 
juries thus  received. 

About  thirty  miles  below  the  rapids  was  another 
tent-town  known  as  Copper  Center.  It  was  situated 
at  the  junction  of  Copper  River  and  the  Klutena,  and 
is  to-day  a  trading  post.  Hundreds  of  outfits  had 
been  lost  in  attempting  to  boat  through  the  rapids. 
A  man  who  had  been  pulled  from  the  water  and  laid 
on  a  drift  pile  to  recuperate,  said  afterwards,  when 
relating  his  experience,  that  he  had  only  recovered 
to  realize  that  he  was  freezing. 


46       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

"  And,  gentlemen,  I  also  found  that  the  Copper- 
River  fever  had  just  left  me." 

A  bareheaded  man,  with  water  dripping  from  his 
clothes  and  even  his  hair,  was  met  about  a  mile 
ahead  of  the  pack  train.  Upon  being  addressed,  he 
answered: 

"  I  vas  pully;  how  vas  you  mit  yourself?  " 

"  You  look  as  if  you  had  swum  at  least  a  good 
portion  of  the  Pacific  Ocean !  " 

"  I  vos  done  worse  don  dot!  " 

"Where  is  your  hat?" 

*'  No  pody  knows  where  ish  my  hat.  It  vas  mit 
my  sugar,  coffee  und  flour.  Say,  you  sit  town  und  I 
tell  you  apout  it.  You  see  I  made  a  pig  poat  vat 
vas  square,  und  de  poys  all  say,  '  Henree,  vot  for 
you  make  him  vide  out?  '  Veil,  I  make  him  vide  out 
so  he  no  upset.  Ven  I  vas  ready  to  go,  de  poys  all 
coom  roundt  und  look.  I  cut  him  loose  und  ve  vent 
roundt  und  roundt,  und  I  could  do  nottings.  Dot 
poat  vas  de  whole  cheese.  Py  und  py,  I  said  hellup, 
hellup,  und  de  poat  found  a  rock  vat  nopoddy 
knows,  und  I  vent  right  on  town  de  riffer. 

*'  Veil,  I  struck  vere  I  vaded  oudt,  und  de  poys 
vas  glad  to  see  me,  und  I  vas  glad  to  see  de  poys, 
you  pet !  But  I  neffer  see  dot  poat.  I  took  oudt  all 
my  money  vat  vas  two  dwenty-tollar  bleces,  und  I 
say  dot  vas  all  dot  Henree  haf  on  both  sides  uf  de 
Mississippi  riffer,  mit  no  hat.    Von  man  said: 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        47 

"  '  Henree,  dare  vas  a  goot  poat  mit  two  ends, 
und  it  Is  tied  up  mit  tree  hundret  tollars,  mit  grub. 
lYou  gif  me  dot  forty  tollars  und  I  go  home,  und  you 
go  on  down  de  riffer  mit  a  poat  dot  haf  two  ends.' 
Veil,  I  gif  him  de  money  und  I  valks  down  und  up 
on  dot  hill,  und  looks  down  on  Hellkate." 

"You  mean  Hell  Gate?" 

"  Dot  vas  It,  Hellkate.  Say,  you  vant  to  look 
oudt  for  dot  Hellkate." 

"  We  travel  the  trail  along  the  bank,  so  we  shall 
not  be  In  danger." 

"  Dot's  all  right,  you  look  oudt  for  him,  for  he's 
a  son  of  a  gun !  I  look  down  and  see  two  men  come 
aroundt  in  a  poat,  und  dey  hit  a  rock,  und  bust  vide 
opens.  Dey  swims  und  swims,  un  py  und  py  dey 
got  oudt.  I  say,  '  Henree,  you  see  dot  rock,  und 
you  no  hit  em.'  I  come  down  here  und  git  in  my 
poat  mid  two  ends,  und  I  goes  aroundt  de  pend,  und 
I  strike  the  rock,  too,  und  bust  vide  open,  shust  like 
de  otter  fellers.  Veil,  I  go  town  to  de  pottom  und 
finds  notting  und  I  stay  dare.  Py  und  py  a  feller 
pulls  me  oudt  py  de  hair  und  puts  me  on  a  drift-poll, 
und  he  go  town  along  de  riffer  und  looks  for  some- 
dings,  und  dot  drift-poll  prakes  down  und  I  drown 
annodder  toim.  Say,  dot  vas  a  goot  feller.  He 
pulled  me  oudt  agin  I 

"  Veil,  I  go  now,  und  you  look  oudt  for  dot  Hell- 
kate— und  say,  you  see  dot  feller  dot  pulled  me  oudt. 


48        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

you  tell  him  for  dot  last  time  he  pulled  me  oudt  I 
say  he  vos  a  pully  goot  feller." 

We  ascended  about  two  hundred  feet  and  trav- 
eled along  the  edge  of  a  table-land.  We  were  away 
from  the  humid  coast  climate,  and  our  pack-train 
kicked  up  a  cloud  of  dust.  The  dense  undergrowth 
of  alder  brush  had  disappeared  and  we  could  look 
and  ride  out  beneath  the  spruce  trees.  Wild  rose 
bushes  clustered  here  and  there,  and  trellised  over  the 
little  side  gullies  where  they  held  out  red-flowered 
greetings  to  us.  As  the  weather  was  warm,  we  re- 
mained over  a  day  at  Copper  Center,  camped  neath 
the  shady  trees  and  caught  brook  trout  from  a  clear 
stream. 

One  discovers  peculiar  traits  in  others,  but  never 
admits  having  any  himself  when  traveling  with  com- 
panions on  the  trail.  There  was  one  in  this  crowd 
whose  repartee  was  so  slow  that  he  generally  thought 
of  what  he  should  have  said  the  next  day  after  the 
opportunity  for  giving  it  had  passed.  His  answers 
generally  were  twenty-four  hours  late.  He  never 
laughed  at  a  camp  story  until  everyone  else  was 
through,  and  then  he  would  begin  to  giggle,  and 
gradually  it  would  develop  into  a  hearty  laugh  that 
finally  culminated  in  such  an  uproarious  explosion 
of  mirthfulness  that  the  rest  of  us  always  did  our 
laughing  over  the  second  time.  Whenever  he  was 
present  that  ridiculous  performance  could  not  be  re- 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        49 

sisted;  we  were  compelled  to  shoot  both  barrels  of 
our  laughter  at  every  joke  that  was  jumped  from 
cover. 

At  most  any  hour  of  the  night  at  this  camp  one 
could  hear  somebody  cussing  or  discussing  the  sub- 
ject of  mosquitoes. 


CHAPTER    IV 

One  should  wear  a  iQ-inch  collar,  a  number  14  boot  and 
a  number  5  hat  to  be  adapted  to  pull  a  sled.  He  should  be 
strong  in  back,  weak  in  mind,  with  high  shoulders  and  a 
low  forehead. 

Among  those  who  had  arrived  at  Copper  Center 
by  pulling  sleds  and  back-packing,  many  had  neg- 
lected a  previous  examination  for  the  necessary 
qualifications.  When  they  now  proved  that  pros- 
pecting was  not  their  natural  calling,  and  that 
Alaska's  springtime  did  not  bud  gold  leaves,  their 
minds  became  semi-deranged.  We  had  met  a  man 
near  the  lake  who  evidently  was  insane.  On  being 
asked  whence  he  came,  he  emphatically  replied: 

"  From  California." 

As  I,  being  from  California,  was  ridiculed  about 
the  answer,  I  explained  that  the  transition  from  that 
State  to  Alaska  was  sufficient  to  affect  the  strongest 
minds.  I  felt,  however,  that  my  brains  were  not 
sufficiently  scrambled  to  be  addicted  to  mental 
storms. 

At  the  rapids  we  met  another  man  who  was  men- 
tally affected,  and  when  asked  from  what  State  he 
hailed,  he,  too,  replied: 

"  From  California." 

50 


^ 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       51 

The  joke  was  becoming  serious  by  this  time,  and 
a  lunatic  from  some  other  State  was  in  demand  to 
divert  insinuations  and  relieve  suspicion. 

At  Copper  Center  there  appeared  at  our  camp  a 
man  who  talked  in  a  very  rambling  manner.  He 
was  as  crazy  evidently  as  a  rabbit  in  the  third  month 
of  the  year.  The  members  of  our  expedition  had 
gone  to  a  near-by  tent-town,  with  the  exception  of  a 
military  officer  and  a  New  York  sketch  artist.  They 
had  remained  apparently  to  see  if  this  man  would  be 
asked  the  usual  question  which  had  recently  resulted 
so  embarrassingly  to  the  interrogator.  As  they  ap- 
peared so  interested,  I  resolved  to  prove  to  them 
that  there  were  deranged  people  who  had  come  from 
other  States  besides  California.  With  desperation 
I  asked  the  expected  question.  He  straightened 
himself  to  a  dignified  attitude,  as  he  replied: 

"I  am  from  Humboldt  County,  California!" 

In  reply  to  his  counter,  I  lied  and  said  I  was  from 
Missouri,  and  California  was  saved,  so  far  as  I  was 
concerned. 

At  that  time  Copper  Center  was  one  of  those 
ephemeral  towns,  where  the  occupants  are  here  to- 
day and  gone  to-morrow.  In  the  wild  rush  to  this 
country,  there  were  about  two  prospectors  to  every 
hundred  invaders,  and  two  others  who  were  willing 
to  learn,  while  the  other  ninety-six  were  waiting  for 
a  "  strike,"  as  they  termed  it.  The  latter  busied 
themselves    generally   In    holding    miners'    meetings 


52       Trailing   and   Camping  m  Alaska 

over  dog-fights  and  other  such  trivial  matters.  Most 
of  them  had  never  lived  outside  of  the  reign  of 
written  law  and  sheriffs  and  town  marshals  and 
mayors ;  so  they  held  meetings  and  proceeded  to  elect 
those  officials.  It  was  disgusting  to  a  free-born 
American  to  see  those  who  had  been  raised  under  a 
monarchical  form  of  government  approach  Captain 
Abercrombie  about  their  trivial  disputes,  as  if  he 
were  a  dictator,  or  possibly  Solomon.  It  was  so 
annoyingly  un-American  that  when  they  came  to  me 
inquiring  for  the  Captain,  I  generally  pointed  out 
James  Garrett  as  the  man.  He  proceeded  to  fill 
them  up  with  so  much  "  bughouse  "  advice  that  I 
was  obliged  to  caution  him,  fearing  that  he  would 
advise  the  commission  of  some  overt  act  done  in  the 
name  of  Captain  Abercrombie  and  the  United  States 
of  America. 

A  high  clay  bank  opposite  Copper  Center  had 
been  prospected  and  found  to  be,  from  a  monetary 
standpoint,  defunct,  bankrupt  and  busted.  As  guns 
and  ammunition  were  plentiful  and  useless,  those 
who  were  preparing  to  leave  the  country  spent  whole 
days  in  doing  nothing  but  shooting  the  inoffensive 
bank,  and  some  day  a  lead  mine  may  be  found  there. 

The  wastefulness  of  shooting  the  ammunition 
away  was  a  characteristic  trait  of  those  who  had 
always  lived  in  civilization.  A  frontiersman  never 
would  have  done  such  a  thing,  but  would  have  given 
It  to  those  who  intended  to  remain  with  the  country, 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       53 

or  have  cached  it  in  some  dry  place  where  at  some 
time  it  might  be  of  some  use  to  others.  This  is  only 
one  instance.  Another  was  the  burning  of  a  large 
outfit  of  provisions  by  some  individuals  who  had  be- 
come disgusted  and  were  leaving.  They  had  worked 
hard  to  pull  it  in  there,  and  rather  than  leave  it  to  be 
of  some  use  to  wandering  wayfarers,  they  preferred 
to  burn  it.  Alaska  was  better  off  when  that  sort  of 
people  departed. 

A  short  distance  from  the  din  and  rattle  of  the 
"  shooters  "  and  the  chopping  and  falling  of  trees, 
could  be  heard  the  voice  of  an  auctioneer  saying, 
"  Now,  gentlemen,  what  am  I  offered  for  this  arti- 
cle?" Those  who  had  come  into  the  country  with 
two  and  three  years'  outfits  were  selling  them  for  a 
pittance,  and  that,  too,  before  they  had  been  there 
six  months. 

"  I  am  a  married  man,  and  this  Is  no  place  for 
me!"  said  one  of  the  number.  "My  wife  thinks 
I'm  a  peach,  a  blossom  and  a  hero!  " 

Then  he  straightened  up,  tightened  his  belt  a  hole, 
stroked  his  unkempt  beard,  strutted  up  and  down  the 
trail  with  his  hands  on  his  hips  and  flirted  his  ragged 
coat-tails  until  he  had  lowered  my  estimation  of  his 
wife's  opinion  about  ninety  per  cent. 

"  She  thinks  I  am  a  loo4oo  bird,"  he  continued, 
"  and  I  feel  through  my  whole  system  that  I  ought 
to  be  at  home  doing  something !  You  can't  imagine 
how  my  wife  loves  me,  my  person  and  my  ways! 


54       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

Don't  talk  to  me  of  imaginary  millions!  I  don't 
want  riches,  but  am  going  home !  Behold,  to-day 
you  see  me  and  to-morrow  I'll  be  gone,  flown,  va- 
mosed! Ta,  ta,  adios!  "  and  that  ragged,  bedraggled 
specimen  of  humanity  disappeared  down  the  trail,  In 
a  "  dog  trot."  Surely  his  wife  must  have  been  a  love 
bird  of  the  rarest  sort  If,  behind  those  whiskers, 
tangled  like  last  year's  nests,  she  could  have  recog- 
nized any  sort  of  a  bird,  "  loo-loo  "  or  otherwise. 

I  consented  to  accompany  Captain  Abercrombie 
and  Sam  Lynch  on  an  exploring  trip  Into  the  Alas- 
kan Range,  one  hundred  miles  northward.  As  this 
entailed  unknown  dangers,  I  handed  my  watch  to 
Mr.  Archer,  an  obliging  gentleman,  to  keep  until 
my  return  to  the  coast.  He  went  back  with  the 
soldiers  part  of  the  way,  but  was  drowned  in  the 
Tonslna  River.  Afterwards  my  watch  was  found 
with  some  other  trinkets  in  a  sack  which  had  been 
tied  to  the  raft  he  had  abandoned. 

We  crossed  the  Copper  River  by  boat  and  by 
swimming  our  horses,  on  August  28,  and  camped 
over  there.  Mt.  Drum  looked  to  be  no  more  than 
twelve  miles  away,  and  the  sun's  shining  lingered  as 
a  tip  of  gold  on  its  top-peak  until  long  after  It  had 
been  hidden  to  us.  That  always  causes  the  surmise 
that  a  mountain  is  much  higher  than  had  been  sus- 
pected. 

We  broke  camp  feeling  that  we  were  leaving  a 
neighborhood  of  American  Bedouins,  ourselves  the 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       55 

most  nomadic  of  all.  We  spent  the  day  in  pulling 
horses  from  bog-holes  by  the  tails  of  others,  fighting 
mosquitoes  and  occasionally  listening  to  the  whirr  of 
the  spruce  hen  as  she  flitted  from  tree  to  tree.  A 
spruce  hen  Is  so  remarkably  tame,  that  the  Indians 
say  they  can,  with  long  poles,  place  a  looped  cord 
over  their  heads.  I  do  not  doubt  that  statement.  At 
night  we  camped  at  the  upper  edge  of  timber,  where 
logs  lay,  here  and  there,  and  where  luxuriant  bunch- 
grass  waved.  Mt.  Drum  still  appeared  to  be  about 
twelve  miles  away.  The  next  morning  Sam  Lynch 
decided  that  the  mountain  was  farther  away  than  it 
was  when  we  left  Copper  Center. 

Here  we  found  a  flock  of  ptarmigan,  and  as  my 
Colt  Frontier  was  the  only  kind  of  a  gun  that  was 
with  us,  I  enjoyed  the  sport  of  killing  nine  of  them. 

It  may  be  well  to  say,  right  here,  that  disreputable 
characters  have  caused  an  erroneous  opinion  among 
many  that  a  revolver  or  pistol  is  used  only  for  kill- 
ing one's  fellow-men.  Many  good  citizens  among 
the  Pacific  Coast  mountains  use  nothing  else  to  kill 
large  game.  I  have  used  no  other  for  twenty-five 
years,  and  during  that  time  I  have  killed  about  all 
kinds  of  large  game  that  inhabit  the  North  Amer- 
ican continent.  I  will  prefer  a  pistol  to  a  revolver, 
when  a  special  kind  Is  made  that  will  shoot  a  40-40 
cartridge  and  with  eight  or  ten  inches  between  sights. 
The  prospector  cannot  afford  to  be  handicapped 
with  a  rifle  when  scaling  the  precipices,  neither  can 


56       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

the  stockman  when  riding  the  range;  but  all  good 
citizens  cast  those  weapons  aside  on  their  return  to 
civilization. 

We  traveled  for  days  along  the  bases  of  Mt. 
Drum  and  Mt.  Sanford,  above  timber  and  through 
bunch-grass  and  blueberry  bushes.  The  mosquitoes 
had  caused  us  fully  to  realize  the  mistake  that  had 
been  made  when  we  were  born;  but  they  now  left 
us,  and  the  gnats  took  their  places  until  our  ears  at- 
tained the  thickness  of  ordinary  boot-soles.  Mt. 
Sanford  is  not  a  volcano,  and  to  me  it  has  not  the 
appearance  of  ever  having  been  one,  yet  the  early 
writers  of  the  Yukon  reported  that  it  smoked;  and 
also  a  few  prospectors  believe  that  they  have  seen 
smoke  being  emitted  from  its  summit.  It  is  the 
prettiest  mountain  that  the  writer  ever  looked  upon, 
and  not  only  is  its  summit  easy  of  access,  but  it  com- 
mands one  of  the  grandest  views  imaginable.  As 
we  descended  near  to  the  timber  It  was  discovered 
that  the  winter  winds  have  blown  down  this  moun- 
tain at  times  with  such  terrific  force  that  small  spruce 
are  to  be  seen  with  all  their  limbs  on  one  side,  point- 
ing toward  the  valley.  Occasionally  one  may  be 
found  growing  along  the  ground,  with  the  limbs 
forming  a  hedge. 

We  succeeded  in  crossing  the  Sanford  River  just 
before  its  noonday  flood  at  that  point,  and  ascended 
the  bank  to  look  back  on  a  raging  torrent  of  water. 
This  stream  has  its  source  in  a  glacier,  and  like  all 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       57 

glacial  streams  is  subject  to  a  daily  flood  during  the 
warm  days  of  summer.  It  was  with  difficulty  that 
the  last  one  of  our  horses  crossed,  so  rapid  was  the 
rise.  We  camped  on  the  bank  for  a  noon-day  lunch 
and  had  just  unpacked  when  a  six-foot  Indian  greeted 
us  with  a  grunt. 

Afterwards  we  learned  to  recognize  this  bushy- 
headed  fellow  as  Talsona  Nickoli.  At  that  time  he 
could  not  talk  a  word  of  English,  but  with  our 
mutual  knowledge  of  Chinook  we  managed  to  hold 
a  simple  colloquy.  He  succeeded,  by  shutting  his 
eyes  and  repeating,  "  Ha-lo,"  In  making  us  under- 
stand that  we  were  the  first  white  men  he  had  ever 
seen.  He  was  clothed  in  the  Indian  garb  of  dressed 
skins,  and  wore  nothing  of  white  man's  make,  not 
even  a  hat.  His  hair  was  kept  out  of  his  eyes  by  a 
rawhide  string  tied  around  his  head,  and  he  repre- 
sented about  as  wild  a  human  being  as  could  be 
found  In  Uncle  Sam's  herd.  He  explained,  by  hold- 
ing up  his  fingers  and  pulling  down  one  at  a  time 
and  repeating  "  tobay,"  that  he  had  killed  five  moun- 
tain sheep.  He  was  very  much  afraid  of  our  horses, 
and  Intently  watched  us  pack  them.  As  we  departed, 
he,  too,  struck  out  for  the  mountains,  whence  he  had 
come. 

Another  day's  travel,  and  camp  was  made  near  a 
small  lake  where  the  Captain  caught,  with  a  fly  hook, 
a  large  mess  of  grayling  trout.  Mention  is  made 
of  this,  because  it  has  been  said  that  Alaska  trout 


58       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

will  not  take  a  fly.     Near  there  we  found  a  notice, 
which  read: 

*'  NOTICE :  I  take  one  mining  claim  and  if  it's 
good  I  take  two. 

"  Ole  Oleson,  Minnesota." 

About  10  P.  M.  on  the  night  of  Aug.  27,  I  was 
strolling  out  alone,  and  while  looking  at  the  stars 
was  meditating  why  Destiny  had  led  us  up  there  to 
the  far  northern  world.  Polaris,  with  its  constella- 
tions, was  nearly  overhead  and  apparently  in  another 
heaven  from  that  when  seen  from  more  southern 
latitudes.  At  that  time,  our  moon  was  bestowing 
her  refulgent  reflections  on  old  Spanish  towers  or 
probably  enhancing  the  beauties  of  Vienna,  but  the 
eternal  watch-towers  of  the  high,  rockribbed  moun- 
tains, near  by,  were  most  impressive,  and  I  thought 
of  the  words  of  Pope: 

"  He  who  through  vast  immensity  can  pierce, 
See  worlds  on  worlds  compose  one  universe, 
Observe  how   system   into  system  runs, 
What   other  planets  circle,   other  suns. 
What   varied   beings   people   every   star. 
May  tell  us  why  Heaven  made  us  as  we  are." 

Just  then,  of  all  times  the  most  appropriate,  we 
were  treated  to  a  most  beautiful  display  of  the 
Aurora  Borealis.  Those  northern  lights  were  not 
so  far  away  as  one  might  suppose,  but  right  near 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       59 

camp,  apparently  only  a  few  thousand  feet  from  us. 
They  hung  In  the  heavens  like  hundreds  of  pale 
strings,  quivering  and  dancing,  all  together,  with 
harmonious  movement.  They  changed  color  as 
often  as  they  changed  position.  Now  they  were  a 
deep  red,  now  orange  with  a  bluish  tinge,  waving 
and  trembling,  dancing  and  quivering  in  fantastic 
weirdness  here,  there  and  yonder;  spreading  out  like 
a  thin  gauze  and  disappearing  to  reappear  nearer  in 
front,  In  solid  phalanx,  to  continue  again  their  beau- 
tiful oscillations. 

Prospectors  generally  claim  that  those  terrestrial 
and  aerial  magnetic  affinities  are  visibly  manifested 
more  often  In  localities  where  great  copper  zones 
exist.  While  that  is  a  very  plausible  conclusion,  it 
Is  also  probable  that  the  altitude,  and  the  sudden  at- 
mospherical changes  occurring  at  this  time  of 
year,  assisted  in  producing  this  spectacular  event. 

No  artificial  fireworks  could  compare  with  this 
nocturnal  display.     It  seemed  to  say: 

"  The  great  summer  scene  has  been  enacted  now 
on  the  northern  stage,  and  those  who  desire  not  to 
remain  and  witness  the  tragedies  of  winter's  play, 
with  its  moonlit  canyons,  mountains  of  deceptive 
fire,  and  curtains  of  scintillating  ice,  had  better  hie 
them  to  the  southland." 

A  streak  of  light  shot  across  the  horizon  and 
vanished;  then  came  solitude:  the  vast  mysterious 
solitude  of  that  unexplored  region. 


60       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

"No  hammers  fell,  no  ponderous  axes  swung: 
Like  some  tall  palm  the  mystic  fabric  sprung,  Majestic  silence." 

With  the  feeling  that  we  were  so  infinitesimal  we 
were  merely  foreign  germs  or  microbes,  we  wended 
our  way  amidst  the  collossal  surroundings  where 
silences  are  spawned.  Our  course  from  Mt.  Sanford 
wound  among  what  appeared  to  be  old  craters,  the 
floors  of  which  were  about  one  hundred  feet  wide, 
composed  of  large  broken  rocks  that  evidently  had 
been  burned  black  when  the  once  tropical  climate 
had  been  changed  by  the  heat  escaping  through  these 
apertures.  The  sides,  or  rims,  were  about  fifty  feet 
deep,  and  many  of  those  old  hoppers  were  filled  with 
water,  forming  small  round  lakes.  We  traveled 
slowly  over  broken  rocks,  and  when  down  in  the 
valley  walked  over  moss-covered  hummocks  among 
which  trees  were  rooted. 

These  numerous  craters  and  the  square  miles  of 
broken-up  rock  indicate  to  me  that  once  this  may 
have  been  the  top  of  a  mountain,  which,  after  burn- 
ing out,  had  sunk.  The  sinking  would  certainly 
break  up  the  surface  in  this  manner. 

We  crossed  the  Copper  above  the  Slahna  junc- 
tion, where  it  was  divided  into  several  quicksandy 
streams.  We  camped  in  the  midst  of  good  horse 
feed,  among  patches  of  willow  and  scattering  Cot- 
tonwood trees.  Cow  tracks  were  so  numerous  that 
to  have  heard  the  bark  of  a  dog,  or  the  rattle  of  a 
bell  and  to  have  met  a  boy  driving  cattle  would  not 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       61 

have  greatly  surprised  us.  In  fact,  we  expected  to 
run  up  against  a  pair  of  bars  or  a  fence,  but  we  soon 
discovered  so  many  bear  tracks  that  we  recovered 
from  the  delusive  fancy,  and  realized  that  the  cow 
tracks  were  made  by  moose  and  caribou,  and  that  we 
were  far  from  the  haunts  of  the  white  man. 

While  the  others  were  preparing  supper,  I  rode 
a  mile  to  the  Slahna,  crossed  over  where  it  was  not 
quite  swimmingly  deep,  and  there  found  the  old 
abandoned  Indian  village,  the  high  grass  and  the 
Cottonwood  trees,  just  as  Captain  West  had  de- 
scribed them,  at  the  very  spot  he  had  intended  was 
to  be  our  meeting  place.  Away  down  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, seated  beside  a  table,  he  had  pointed  out 
this  exact  locality  to  me,  and  had  even  described 
the  clear  stream  of  water  that  emptied  into  the 
Slahna  at  this  place  and  also  a  high  gravel  bank 
near  by. 

The  next  day,  which  was  the  last  day  of  August, 
we  crossed  the  Slahna,  where  I  had  forded  It  the 
evening  before,  and  here  met  some  prospectors  who 
had  been  up  the  Slahna  River,  and  now  were  return- 
ing to  the  coast.  They  corroborated  the  West  story 
in  regard  to  the  Suslota  creek  emptying  into  the 
Slahna  instead  of  into  the  Copper  River,  as  indi- 
cated on  the  maps.  Just  a  month  after  this  meet- 
ing, one  of  those  men  was  drowned  in  the  Copper 
River  rapids.  The  Slahna  is  a  deep,  sluggish  stream 
from  Mentasta  Lake  down  to  within  three  miles  of 


62        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

the  Copper  River,  but  at  points  is  swift  water  and 
it  was  there  I  fought  for  my  life  on  our  return. 

We  were  three  days  ascending  the  Slahna  valley, 
along  dry,  birch-covered  ridges,  between  hopper-like 
potholes,  from  one  to  two  hundred  feet  deep,  with 
quakin'asp,  birch  and  spruce  trees  growing  on  their 
rims.  Quakin'asp  is  a  contraction  in  general  use 
which  is  derived  from  the  words  quaking  aspen, 
a  species  of  the  poplar.  We  continued  to  the  source 
of  this  river,  away  up  in  the  Alaskan  Range.  How 
It  did  rain  there !  We  made  our  beds  in  a  low  place, 
and  before  morning  it  was  filled  with  water  and  we 
with  rheumatism. 

We  returned  across  country  for  Lake  Mentasta, 
and  spent  a  day  in  penetrating  a  swamp  and  another 
in  getting  out  of  it.  We  frightened  a  moose  so 
that  it  averaged  i8  feet  to  a  jump,  for  a  few 
jumps,  and  then  trotted  out  of  the  country.  A  small 
stream  of  the  coldest  water  that  I  ever  felt  was  the 
outlet  of  a  beaver  lake,  which  must  have  been  on 
ice.  We  led  our  horses  into  that  innocent-looking 
place  and  spent  an  hour  in  getting  them  out.  It  had 
a  false  bottom  of  some  floating  substance,  and  Sam 
Lynch  stepped  into  it  up  to  his  neck.  Immediately 
he  introduced  a  new  college  yell  into  Alaska.  After 
he  was  out  on  the  bank,  he  continued  to  yell  some 
ornamental  additions.  One  horse  turned  the  pack 
beneath  him,  and  when  the  ropes  were  cut,  he  floun- 
dered out  at  the  expense  of  our  already  limited  sup- 


^ 

^ 

^ 

b 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        63 

plies.  Every  struggle  he  made  resulted  in  a  globule 
of  flour  floating  off  on  the  surface.  We  repacked 
our  poor  shivering  horses,  minus  the  sugar,  coffee 
and  dried  potatoes. 

We  camped  beside  a  sluggish  stream.  Near  by 
was  a  round  knoll,  about  one  thousand  feet  high, 
and  this  I  ascended  to  get  a  view  of  the  surrounding 
country  before  dark.  I  swam  a  horse  across  the 
stream.  I  tied  my  ferry  boat — the  horse — to  a  tree, 
as  it  was  too  swampy  for  him  to  go  to  the  foot  of 
the  hill.  The  sunset  was  so  beautiful  that  I  lingered 
on  the  summit,  and  when  I  descended  an  old  well- 
beaten  bear  trail,  the  September  night  was  as  dark 
as  black  ink  in  a  black  bottle  at  midnight.  We  swam 
the  river  when  it  was  too  dark  to  see  the  opposite 
shore.  The  horse  went  shiveringly  to  his  supper, 
and  I,  in  like  manner,  stood  by  the  fire  and  ate  mine. 
The  hooting  of  an  owl  has  been  heard  in  many 
places,  but  surely  a  hoot  was  never  heard  that 
sounded  quite  as  lonely  as  did  one  from  a  near-by 
tree,  away  up  there  in  that  swampy  forest  of  Alaska, 
in  nearly  6^  degrees  north  latitude. 

The  next  day,  while  traveling  through  the  forests, 
I  discovered  a  growth  of  fungus,  but  could  not  de- 
cide if  it  were  a  mushroom  or  a  toadstool,  and  the 
proverbial  test  of  eating  it  and  if  I  died  it  was  a 
toadstool  did  not  appeal  to  me.  It  is  as  difiicult  for 
me  to  determine  the  difference  between  a  toadstool 
and  a  mushroom  as  it  would  be  to  decide  if  a  mat- 


64        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

rlmonial  venture  would  be  happiness;  and  I  would 
rather  be  a  live  bachelor  than  a  dead  hero. 

We  traveled  along  the  edge  of  Mentasta  Lake, 
which  is  but  three  miles  long,  and  crossed  the  outlet 
near  some  Indian  wickiups.  We  picked  wild  berries 
and  saw  Indian  graves  where,  from  crudely  made 
crosses,  little  flags,  as  love  tokens,  flirted  with  the 
breeze. 


CHAPTER  V 

Prospectors  occasionally  eat  beans,  but  their  habitual  diet 
is  hope. 

Mentasta  Pass  is  a  low,  timbered  passageway 
through  the  Alaskan  Range.  The  divide  is  so  flat 
that  it  surprises  one  to  find  the  water  running  in  an 
opposite  direction  to  that  pursued  a  short  distance 
behind.  We  traveled  several  miles  in  this  pass  and 
camped  near  a  pond  of  water,  where  we  killed 
widgeon  ducks,  and  where  deep  sloughs  coursed 
through  the  timber. 

A  man  from  California  overtook  us  there.  He 
was  on  his  way  to  the  Yukon  and  among  his  pack- 
horses  was  one  that  I  had  brought  up  to  Alaska. 
He  camped  with  us,  and  something  interesting,  which 
relates  to  his  trip,  will  be  related  further  on. 

We  were  a  day  here,  felling  trees  side  by  side  for 
bridges,  and  placing  boughs,  then  moss  and  dirt, 
on  them.  Although  these  bridges  were  high  above 
the  water,  our  mustangs  willingly  crossed  on  them. 
At  one  place  a  large  lake  was  formed  by  a  beaver 
dam  across  a  small  creek.  A  pile  of  three-years-old 
brush  had  been  placed  near  by,  and  more  two-years- 
old  brush  was  on  top  of  this,  then  more  that  was 
evidently  one  year  old,  and  on  top  of  all  was  brush 

65 


66       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

that  had  been  freshly  cut  and  was  yet  green.  As 
this  brush  represented  annual  cuttings,  and  was  close 
to  the  dam,  it  was  for  no  other  purpose  apparently 
but  to  stop  a  leakage  if  one  should  occur. 

We  saw  stumps  of  large  trees  which  the  beavers 
had  cut  down,  but  the  whole  of  the  trees  had  dis- 
appeared to  the  bottom  of  the  lake.  If  I  could  talk 
the  beaver  language  I  would  submit  a  standing  offer 
to  help  them  a  month  with  an  ax,  if  they  would  al- 
low me  to  see  them  move  one  of  those  large  trees 
after  they  had  cut  it  down.  They  evidently  fall  the 
trees  true  and  as  near  where  they  want  them  as  would 
the  most  experienced  woodsman. 

We  left  the  ponds,  sloughs  and  thickly-grown 
forest  for  birch-covered  ridges,  and  at  night  camped 
on  the  Tanana  slope,  where  were  babbling  brooks, 
tall  grass  and  a  few  scattering  spruce  trees.  We 
rested  on  September  12  to  await  the  melting  of 
about  four  inches  of  snow  that  had  fallen  the  pre- 
vious night.  We  did  more — we  killed,  butchered, 
cooked  and  ate  a  large,  fat  porcupine.  Several 
times,  since  that  incident,  this  individual's  appetite 
has  been  in  a  craving  mood,  but  not  for  porcu- 
pine. 

From  Porcupine  Camp  we  traveled  along  the 
eastern  slope  of  the  range,  in  a  southeasterly  direc- 
tion, towards  the  point  where  a  little  puff  of  smoke, 
several  miles  away,  indicated  an  Indian  hunting 
camp. 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       67 

We  arrived  at  this  camp  about  noon.  A  little 
boy  and  girl  came  out  from  their  hidden  camp  and 
astonished  us  by  talking  good  English.  They  ex- 
plained that  they  had  attended  a  Mission  school  on 
the  Yukon,  and  half  a  moon  after  the  boy  had  left 
with  his  uncle,  to  accompany  him  on  this  fall  hunt, 
the  twelve-years-old  girl  had  run  away  and  followed 
them.  She  had  traveled  through  the  forests,  along 
mountain  trails  and  across  dangerous  rivers,  to  this 
lonely  spot,  living  on  berries  and  roots  while  mak- 
ing the  trip.  She  had  made  little  rafts  of  dead 
sticks,  bound  together  with  willow  withes,  and  on 
one  of  those  she  had  crossed  the  great  Tanana 
River.  With  her  inborn  instinct  to  follow  the 
proper  course,  she  had  watched  for  the  only  smoke 
on  the  Toklo  River,  for  she  had  good  reasons  to 
believe  that  it  rose  from  the  campfire  of  her  rela- 
tives. This  child  of  the  wild  had  accomplished  that 
which  not  one  full-grown  white  person  in  a  hundred 
could  have  done. 

Those  children  asked  if  we  had  moose  meat,  and 
upon  receiving  a  negative  answer,  they  retired  to 
the  brush  thicket;  and  presently  a  wrinkled,  blear- 
eyed,  dirty  old  squaw  ventured  forth  and  held  out 
to  us  a  flank  of  moose-meat  in  her  filthy  hands.  The 
meat  was  loud  of  smell,  and  the  old  squaw  was  loud 
in  its  praise,  repeating  *'  Wal-lay,"  meaning  good. 
While  one  does  not  always  rely  on  the  truth  of  an 
Indian,  we  took  her  word  for  that  statement.     We 


68       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

advised  her  to  keep  It  for  Winter,  saying  that  we 
killed  more  birds  than  we  could  eat,  and  caught 
loads  of  salmon;  besides,  our  horses  were  too  weak 
to  pack  the  meat,  and — well,  we  were  not  hungry. 
We  thanked  her,  apologized  and  lied. 

Traveling  over  soft,  deep  moss  for  a  few  miles 
we  camped  on  the  bank  of  the  clear  stream  of  little 
Tokio.  Indian  Albert,  who  was  hunting  for  the 
camp  just  passed,  tracked  us  up  and  ate  of  our 
scanty  supper.  He  had  a  long  clip-blade  hunting 
knife  which  he  desired  to  trade  for  my  revolvers. 
He  volunteered  to  show  me  where  the  Tyena  trail 
crossed  to  Tetling,  on  the  Tanana.  As  I  expected 
to  explore  those  wilds  at  some  future  time  I  accom- 
panied him  for  a  mile  through  timber  and  over  moss- 
covered  ground,  where  a  white  man  could  not  have 
tracked  an  elephant,  and  finally  we  arrived  at  the 
place  where  the  trail  was  pointed  out. 

When  we  were  returning,  circumstances  placed 
him  behind.  After  a  few  steps  had  been  taken.  In- 
stinctively I  looked  around  quickly  and  discovered 
Mr.  Indian  in  a  crouching  attitude,  with  his  knife 
clutched  to  his  breast,  as  If  ready  for  a  spring.  The 
muzzle  of  my  Frontier  swiftly  but  silently  invited 
him  to  travel  In  front,  and  he  complied  most  will- 
ingly. 

It  was  not  desirable  that  I  should  take  the  life 
of  even  an  Indian,  although  the  circumstances  justi- 
fied it.     He  had  not  been  able  to  resist  the  tempta- 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       69 

tion  to  knock  me  out  for  the  revolvers,  and  he 
should  not  have  been  given  the  chance,  as  I  had 
recognized  in  him  the  pugnacious,  Digger-like  In- 
dian, a  cowardly  petty  thief.  He  did  not  know  but 
that  all  of  us  were  armed,  although  he  must  have 
realized  that  the  others  would  be  told  of  the  occur- 
rence, therefore  after  being  so  fairly  caught  he  would 
be  too  cowardly  to  let  his  bushy  head  appear  from 
behind  a  log  or  tree,  as  he  would  expect  to  get  it 
cracked.  I  desired  no  trouble  with  Indians,  and  to 
have  killed  him  might  have  caused  his  revenge  on 
some  innocent  white  man.  As  my  companions  were 
unarmed,  and  it  would  cause  them  only  uneasiness, 
I  did  not  tell  them  of  the  incident. 

I  was  told,  two  years  after  this  event,  that  Al- 
bert was  considered  a  very  bad  Indian  by  all  the 
Tananas  and  Ahtnas.  Suslota  John  said  that  the 
Tananas  had  once  banished  him  to  Forty  Mile  for 
six  moons,  and  the  Ahtnas  had  banished  him  to  the 
coast  for  five  moons,  and  he  thought  they  would 
shoot  him.  He  said  Albert  would  steal  from  In- 
dians as  well  as  from  white  men,  and  that  he  might 
cause  trouble.  He  added  that  Albert  once  had  shot 
a  white  prospector  by  the  name  of  Robinson,  on  the 
Xanana. 

We  ascended  a  high  peak  for  the  purpose  of 
searching  for  a  pass  through  the  mountains,  and 
there  we  were  charmed  by  an  enchanting  scene.  The 
hazy  blue  of  the  east  dimly  screened  the  rolling  hills 


70        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

of  the  Forty-Mile  country  and  those  of  the  Ketchem- 
stock.  The  high,  majestic  sentinels  of  the  Copper 
River  Valley, — Mount  Sanford,  Mount  Wrangell 
and  Mount  Drum, — were  to  the  southwest.  From 
those  watchtowers,  a  wintry  vigil  is  kept  forever  on 
the  valley  below,  with  occasional  threats  of  hell- 
tongued  flames  from  the  crater  of  Uniletta  which 
exerts  an  influence  for  good  over  the  superstitious 
children  of  the  forest. 

The  Copper  River  valley  was  beautiful,  with  its 
silvery  river-threads  glistening  in  the  sunlight  where 
they  wound  through  forests  with  shady  dales  and 
Innumerable  lakes.  Away  up  on  this  mountain  peak 
laughingly  bloomed  a  little  flower. 

"And   this   same    flower   that   blooms  to-day, 
To-morrow  will  be   dying." 

The  desired  pass  was  discovered,  and  while  de- 
scending we  came  out  on  a  point  where  a  yearling 
bear  was  seen,  rolling,  waltzing  and  tumbling  on 
a  grassy  flat  below.  He  was  just  about  our  desired 
size,  and  if  secured,  we  should  be  relieved  of  all 
fear  of  starving  before  we  arrived  at  Copper  Cen- 
ter. 

By  working  along  the  side  of  a  rocky  bluff,  an  at- 
tempt was  made  to  creep  up  on  him,  but  before  half- 
way to  the  little  fellow,  I  discovered  that  I  had 
managed  to  approach  to  the  largest  black  silver-tip 
grizzly  imaginable.     There  he  was,  not  more  than 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        71 

eighty  yards  away,  and  acting  as  if  he  had  discov- 
ered, by  the  expression  of  my  countenance,  that 
somebody  had  made  a  mistake.  He  appeared  to 
possess  an  uncontrollable  desire  to  test  the  texture 
of  my  clothing,  or  search  me  for  valuables.  When 
first  he  was  seen,  his  head  was  about  the  size  of  a 
water-pail,  but  we  had  not  gazed  at  each  other  a 
minute  until  it  had  increased  to  the  size  of  a  wash- 
tub.  I  concluded  that  if  we  must  fight  it  out  it  was 
advisable  to  start  the  battle  before  he  attained  the 
size  of  an  elephant  or  a  two-story  building. 

I  laid  the  gold  pan  on  a  rock,  held  on  to  one  side 
of  the  bluff  and  attempted  to  draw  my  six-shooter. 
Accidentally  I  knocked  the  pan  from  Its  place,  and  it 
went  bumping  and  rattling  down  that  rock-pile,  fill- 
ing Bruin  with  vision  of  destruction.  He  darted 
away  like  a  rocket,  while  a  few  bullets  were  shot 
into  the  ground  behind  him.  He  ran  a  quarter  of 
a  mile,  stopped,  looked  back,  then  fearing  that  the 
pan  might  rattle  some  more,  he  dug  his  claws  deeper 
into  the  ground,  threw  up  more  dirt  behind,  snorted 
louder  and  ran  faster  down  hill,  across  a  ridge,  over 
a  gulch  and  another  ridge,  until  his  dark  form 
faded  away  in  the  distance.  Then  I  felt  brave.  The 
little  cub  had  become  frightened  also,  and  had 
left. 

The  next  day  we  crossed  through  the  pass,  where 
there  was  a  lake  that  reflected  beautiful  mountain 
scenes  from  its  surface,  and  where  water  lilies  were 


72       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

growing.  We  traveled  an  old  trail  on  which  we 
found  Indian  beads.  This  trail  led  us  down  to  the 
Slahna,  which  we  crossed  on  a  raft  and  swam  our 
horses,  camping  on  the  west  side  about  six  miles  be- 
low Mentasta  Lake. 

Those  September  mornings  were  frosty;  the 
ground  was  frozen  and  the  grass  was  rapidly  losing 
strength.  We  lightened  our  loads  to  enable  us  to 
reach  the  old  Indian  village  near  the  mouth  of  the 
Slahna  in  one  day's  travel.  Captain  Abercrombie 
took  our  outfit  on  the  raft  down  the  river,  and  Lynch 
and  I  hurried  down  through  the  timber  with  the 
horses.  When  about  a  mile  from  the  camping  place, 
the  raft  came  into  view,  with  its  pilot  chilled  and 
cramped  from  being  so  near  the  cold  water.  Here 
we  loaded  the  packs  on  the  horses  again  and  the 
others  proceeded  down  to  the  old  abandoned  Indian 
town,  while  I  took  the  raft  and  struck  out  for  a  tent 
that  was  on  the  opposite  side,  and  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  below. 

On  this  tent  was  marked  In  large  letters:  "We 
are  the  boys  from  Decatur,  Illinois."  They  "  pot- 
latched  "  me  two  cups  of  flour  and  one  of  beans,  and 
extended  an  urgent  invitation  to  remain  overnight, 
as  it  was  dark  and  there  was  rapid  water  between 
that  point  and  the  Copper  River,  about  three  miles 
below.  As  we  were  out  of  anything  to  eat  in  our 
camp,  I  declined  the  offer.  Hoping  to  land  in  an 
eddy  at  the  mouth  of  Ahtel  creek,  near  our  camp,  I 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       73 

tied  the  provisions  In  a  small  sack  to  my  vest,  bade 
Bert  Hurd  good-bye,  and  shoved  the  raft  out  Into 
that  boiling  current. 

It  was  a  roaring  diversion,  where  the  water  was 
too  deep  for  a  pole  to  reach  bottom,  and  the  raft 
was  pilot,  captain  and  crew,  with  one  useless  pas- 
senger. The  frolicking  current  did  not  hesitate  to 
slam  the  craft  against  the  over-hanging  brush  along 
the  bank.  Down  on  my  knees  with  my  hat  knocked 
off,  I  braced  myself  against  those  sweepers  of  alder 
and  willow  until  the  raft  sank  so  low  in  the  water 
that  the  waves  slapped  my  face;  then  the  thing  would 
slowly  turn  until  the  current  caught  It.  Immediately 
it  would  rise  and  shoot  away,  to  repeat  the  per- 
formance on  the  opposite  side,  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
below.  We,  the  raft  and  I,  failed  to  reach  the  cov- 
eted eddy  by  about  four  feet,  and  away  we  went, 
bouncing  with  renewed  animation  for  the  Copper. 
The  provisons  were  successfully  thrown  on  to  a  high 
bank,  In  an  open  place.  Then  there  was  more 
trouble  with  the  sweepers.  Fortunately,  the  raft 
struck  the  bank  in  a  favorable  place  and  I  left  it  to 
continue  its  crazy  voyage.  Slowly  I  worked  through 
the  brush  for  a  mile,  to  where  was  found  the  pro- 
visions. Then  I  started  for  camp  In  as  straight  a 
direction  as  I  could  guess.  On  the  way,  a  frightened 
bear  snorted  and  went  crashing  through  the  brush, 
but  I  felt  that  frightening  bears  was  a  pleasant  pas- 
time to  rafting  dangerous  rivers  at  night-time.    For- 


74       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

tunately  I  came  out  of  the  brush  right  at  our  camp- 
iire. 

We  descended  the  west  side  of  the  Copper  River 
by  crossing  swamps,  swimming  rivers  and  cutting 
our  way  through  forests  of  spruce.  We  passed  a 
camp  where  there  was  a  lone  man  watching  a  cache 
of  provisions,  while  his  partners  were  off  at  the  head 
of  the  river.  He  complained  of  not  having  seen 
a  man  for  more  than  a  month.  He  lighted  his  pipe 
and,  seating  himself  on  a  log,  became  communi- 
cative. 

"  Whenever  I  think  about  my  coming  up  here," 
said  he,  "  I  realize  that  I  put  up  a  job  on  myself 
and  made  It  work,  too.  This  would  be  a  good  place 
to  play  solitaire,  but  I'll  wager  that  no  man,  after 
he  has  been  here  a  month,  can  play  even  that  with- 
out cheating  himself." 

We  remained  there  long  enough  to  cook  what  we 
called  a  square  meal  from  that  man's  supplies,  and 
refused  his  offer  of  some  provisions,  as  we  were  not 
hungry  when  we  left,  and  thought  we  could  kill 
enough  birds  for  our  need.  Near  this  camp  I  killed 
my  first  Alaska  pheasant.  They  are  very  much  like 
the  prairie  chicken  in  size,  color  and  in  their  manner 
of  flying.  Their  flesh  differs  from  that  of  the  spruce 
hen,  in  that  the  meat  is  whiter.  They  subsist  mostly 
on  seeds  and  berries  and  not  on  spruce  needles,  as 
do  the  spruce  hens. 

The   grass  had  lost  its   strength   and  our  poor 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       75 

horses  soon  lost  theirs.  The  most  disagreeable  task 
that  I  had  to  perform  was  to  shoot  one  of  our  equine 
servants.  We  stood  him  on  top  of  a  five-hundred- 
foot  embankment,  and  his  body  went  rolling  down 
into  the  Copper  River.  We  felt  fortunate  when 
each  of  us  had  a  little  pine  squirrel  for  supper.  We 
ate  those  with  a  relish,  even  if  my  companions  did 
insist  upon  referring  to  them  as  rats.  Often,  while 
sitting  around  our  campfire,  we  would  tantalize  our 
appetites  by  talking  about  the  good  things  to  eat 
and  of  the  double  orders  we  intended  to  hand  in  at 
popular  restaurants  when  we  returned  to  civilization. 
I  attempted  to  encourage  my  companions  to  eat  rein- 
deer moss,  boiled  and  seasoned,  by  telling  them  that 
it  was  a  favorite  dish  used  and  eaten  by  the  royalty 
of  Lapland,  but  they  Insisted  that  they  were  good 
Americans,  and  not  particularly  stuck  on  the  diet  of 
kings,  whether  Nebuchadnezzar  or  his  Arctic  Imi- 
tators. 

The  McClelland  party  was  boating  upon  one  side 
of  the  Copper  River  when  another  party  was  doing 
the  same  along  the  opposite  shore.  The  latter  at- 
tempted to  cross  over,  but  their  boat  was  capsized 
and  all  were  drowned.  Their  names  were  unknown 
to  the  McClelland  party,  and  thus  all  trace  of  them 
was  lost.  Probably  the  Valdez  postmaster,  when 
later  he  returned  their  long  uncalled  for  letters,  re- 
ceived anxious  ones  of  Inquiry  from  their  friends  at 
home. 


76       Trailing   and   Camping   in   'Alaska 

We  arrived  at  Copper  Center  on  September  26 
and  found  the  population  decreasing  by  boat-loads 
of  the  people  going  down  the  river.  Many  had 
built  cabins,  and  now  had  changed  their  minds  and 
were  going  out  with  the  "  push,"  as  they  called  the 
home-going  crowd. 

Our  trip  had  impressed  Captain  Abercrombie 
with  the  fact  that  a  trail  into  this  country  was  an  ab- 
solute necessity.  Although  he  was  enthusiastic  be- 
fore, he  was  more  so  now,  and  It  was  partly  through 
his  renewed  exertion  in  behalf  of  the  region  that 
his  name  will  ever  be  Identified  with  the  opening  up 
of  the  Copper  River  country.  A  few  ridiculed  the 
idea  of  a  trail  being  constructed  through  those 
mountains,  claiming  that  the  project  was  Impossible 
without  crossing  a  glacier. 


^ 


CHAPTER  VI 

An  Indian  once  said:  "  You  go  down  river,  he  help  you; 
you  no  go  same  way  river  go,  he  no  help.  He  alt  same 
white  man" 

We  left  our  outfits  at  Copper  Center,  on  Septem- 
ber 28,  and  joined  Millard,  Dal  Stevens,  Nutter 
Bros.,  Pete  Cashman,  Jim  Finch,  Al  Hinky  and 
others  in  the  novelty  of  boating  down  the  river. 
Seated  in  three  row-boats  and  all  pulling  oars,  the 
current  assisted  in  shooting  us  down  rapids  and 
around  bends  at  a  ten-mile  gait. 

The  sun  shone  brightly,  and  the  mornings  were 
crisp,  with  the  thermometer  at  18  above.  The  ride 
was  fascinating  and  the  Indians  waved  their  old 
rags  at  us  as  if  wishing  us  "  God  speed,"  no  doubt 
remarking  to  each  other:  "Surely  the  white  men 
are  as  plentiful  in  their  country  as  the  blades  of 
grass!  " 

The  Indians  had  been  benefited  by  the  generous 
"  pot-latches  "  of  the  whites.  They  possessed  all 
sorts  of  guns  which  would  shoot  new  and  unknown 
grades  of  ammunition,  that  they  could  not  obtain. 
They  wore  all  sorts  of  misfit  clothing  and  their 
wickiups  contained  more  or  less  of  tea,  coffee,  sugar 
and  tobacco,  which  would-be  prospectors  had  tugged, 

77 


78       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

pulled  and  packed  over  the  glacier,  only  to  abandon 
with  their  first  disappointment. 

Our  first  night's  camp  was  at  Taral,  where  the 
Indians  exhibited  cooking  utensils  which  had  been 
hammered  out  of  copper.  This  was  the  home  of 
Chief  Nicoli,  who  led  in  the  murder  of  the  Russian 
explorers.  It  was  he  who,  many  years  before,  had 
led  the  Copper  River  Indians  in  a  successful  resist- 
ance to  the  invading  Tananas.  They  claim  that  the 
Russians  were  very  cruel  to  them. 

Two  years  after  we  camped  there,  Nicoli  departed 
to  the  Happy  Hunting-grounds  for  an  interview 
with  the  Great  Spirit  about  that  and  other  matters 
— possibly  the  death  of  John  Bremner,  who,  It  is 
claimed  by  them,  was  killed  by  the  Tananas.  The 
natives  now  say  that  the  spirit  of  Nicoli  protects 
the  mountain  sheep  from  the  leaden  missiles  of  the 
white  man. 

This  Taral  chief  was  a  man  of  strong  character. 
During  his  active  life  he  prohibited  any  direct  busi- 
ness intercourse  between  the  natives  of  the  Interior 
and  those  on  the  coast.  He  held  the  key  to  the  in- 
terior by  way  of  the  Copper  River,  and  as  he  lived  on 
the  bank  of  the  river,  no  Indian  dared  pass.  The 
Indians  of  the  interior  brought  furs  down  to  this  dic- 
tator, and  he  took  them  to  the  coast  traders  and  re- 
turned with  guns  and  powder.  They  generally 
hammered  their  own  bullets  from  native  copper. 

Old   Bachaneta   once   attempted   to   descend   the 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       79 

river  on  a  raft,  but  Taral  Nicoli  demanded  that  he 
should  turn  back.  Bachaneta  was  a  noted  leader 
among  the  Indians  at  the  head-waters  of  the  river 
and  of  the  upper  Xanana,  but  a  bullet  from  the  rifle 
of  Nicoli  caused  him  to  seek  a  landing  and  return  on 
foot  to  his  home,  one  hundred  miles  away.  Billy 
Bachaneta  related  this  incident  to  me,  and  added 
that  if  Nicoli  had  not  died,  he  and  his  father  and  a 
few  friends  had  intended  to  repeat  the  attempt. 

The  next  day  we  passed  through  Wood  canyon, 
with  its  crooked  walls  and  beautiful  scenery,  where 
the  water  was  deep  and  boiling,  with  large  whirl- 
pools in  the  turns.  We  passed  the  tent-town  of 
Bremner,  at  the  mouth  of  Bremner  River,  where 
many  in  tents  had  tried  to  pass  the  winter.  The 
scurvy  had  nearly  wiped  out  that  camp.  A  few  men 
had  loaded  their  sick  comrades  on  hand-sleds,  and 
had  descended  the  Copper  River  in  the  dead  of 
winter,  while  the  ravens  flying  overhead  had  an- 
nounced: "We'll  pick  your  bones!  "  There  is  no 
sadder  tale  of  northern  hardships  than  that  of 
Bremner. 

We  overtook  the  soldiers  who  had  abandoned 
their  horses  and  boated  to  Bremner.  They  had  been 
instructed  to  ascend  Tasnuna  River  from  this  place 
and  descend  Lowe  River  to  Valdez  Bay.  Lowe 
River  was  formerly  known  as  Valdez  River,  but 
Lieutenant  Lowe  fell  into  it  once  and  thereafter 
changed  its  name  from  its  mouth  to  its  source.     Ac- 


80       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

cording  to  this  precedent,  most  of  the  rivers  in  that 
part  of  Alaska  should  be  named  Powell.  But  there 
would  be  other  claimants. 

On  the  last  of  September  we  arrived  at  the  head 
of  the  rapids,  which  were  about  three  miles  long. 
The  river  here  plunges  down  through  a  narrow 
space  between  a  perpendicular  wall  on  one  side  and 
the  moraine  of  Miles  glacier  on  the  other.  Above 
this  glacier,  and  on  the  west  side  of  the  river,  can 
be  seen  the  remarkable  sight  of  trees  growing  on  the 
ice.  The  formation  appears  to  be  rolling,  gravelly 
hills,  but  the  deep-cut  ravines  disclose  them  to  be 
old  glacier  moraines,  with  a  few  feet  of  vegetable 
matter  and  debris  on  clear  blue  ice. 

Mr.  Corliss  was  there  at  the  rapids  with  his  boat, 
"  Long  Tom,"  and  was  going  to  attempt  boating 
through  on  the  morrow.  A  man  had  been  drowned 
there  the  day  before  while  attempting  that  same  feat. 
I  seated  myself  on  a  large  boulder,  about  forty  feet 
above  the  swirling  water,  to  watch  the  "  Long  Tom  " 
go  through.  Six  men,  each  with  an  oar,  pulled 
straight  for  the  rapids,  while  Corliss,  with  set  jaws 
and  a  determined  look  on  his  face,  stood  up  in  the 
stern  as  the  pilot.  The  boat  appeared  to  hesitate 
before  taking  the  plunge,  then  shot  down  like  an 
arrow  for  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards,  where 
it  whirled  in  an  eddy,  then  plunged  down  into  the 
second  rapids. 

The  occupants  could  be  seen,  now  high  on  the 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        81 

center  crest  where  their  oars  could  not  touch  water 
but  were  working  in  air,  then  deeply  dipping  in  the 
troughs  of  the  current;  but  finally  they  landed  below 
the  second  rapids.  A  few  of  us  carried  our  sleep- 
ing-bags around  along  the  trail  that  traversed  the 
bluff.  Others  followed  Corliss  in  one  of  our  boats, 
and  they  also  succeeded  in  landing  it  below  without 
mishap,  but  the  danger  was  so  appalling  that  they 
concluded  to  line  the  second  boat,  by  all  hands  hold- 
ing to  a  long  rope  and  walking  along  the  moraine 
side  of  the  river. 

This  attempt  was  a  failure  and  the  boat  broke 
away  with  sixty  feet  of  rope  dragging  behind.  This 
held  the  boat  straight  and  safely  piloted  it  through 
the  first  two  rapids;  but  a  loop  in  the  rope  caught  on 
the  bottom  at  the  head  of  the  third  rapid,  known  as 
the  cataract,  and  there  it  bobbed  up  and  down,  all 
night,  with  our  provisions,  and  blankets  for  six  men. 

It  bobbed  and  bobbed  there,  regardless  of  our 
appetites  and  comfort,  while  we  built  a  fire  in  some 
driftwood  and  despondently  discussed  the  situation. 
There  appeared  but  one  thing  to  do  and  that  was 
to  cut  the  rope  with  a  bullet.  We  discovered,  by 
throwing  rocks,  that  the  boat  was  much  farther 
away  than  at  first  we  had  supposed,  the  distance 
being  about  sixty  yards.  As  the  boat  was  moving, 
and  as  it  was  necessary  to  strike  the  rope  when  taut, 
it  was  a  difficult  shot  to  make.  There  were  but 
nine  cartridges  left  for  my  revolver,  and  these  were 


82       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 


reserved  until  all  ammunition  in  camp  had  been 
used  up  by  another  shooter.  Fortunately  my  eighth 
shot  severed  a  strand,  and  my  ninth  completely  cut 
the  rope,  and  immediately  that  boat  shot  away  from 
there,  like  a  quarter  horse  on  a  race  track.  It  rolled 
out  the  blankets,  when  going  through  the  cataract, 
and  then  floated  on  down  to  deep  water. 

The  watchers  who  were  down  there  with  the  other 
boat  which  had  made  the  run  successfully,  paddled 
out  among  the  icebergs  and  recovered  it.  We  built 
a  fire  among  some  driftwood,  ate  flapjacks  and  sand, 
while  the  wind  blew  a  gale.  Acres  of  ice  fell  from 
the  two-hundred-foot  face  of  Miles  glacier,  across 
the  river,  a  mile  away;  these  would  disappear  be- 
neath the  surface  of  that  deep  water,  and  then  bob 
up,  to  float  off  as  icebergs.  When  they  struck  the 
water  they  sent  waves  away  out  on  our  beach. 

We  arrived  at  Alganik  on  October  3.  This 
was  a  trading  post  at  the  edge  of  high  tide,  with  a 
few  goods,  a  barrel  of  whiskey,  a  squaw-man  or 
two,  and  several  half-breed  children.  We  followed 
the  guidance  of  an  Indian  from  that  point,  and 
striking  the  tide  just  right,  we  crossed  the  twenty- 
five  miles  of  mud  flats,  and  ascended  the  outlet  of 
Eyak  Lake,  on  an  ingoing  current.  On  the  banks  of 
this  outlet  were  hundreds  of  acres  of  redtop  grass^ 
and  occasionally  large  spruce  trees.  The  tide  car- 
ried us  on,  and  increased  our  speed.  We  passed  a 
sloop  in  which  were  a  squaw-man,  his  wife  and  fam- 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       83 

ily.  The  half-breed  children  hung  over  the  edge 
of  their  floating  home  and  trailed  their  little  fingers 
in  the  water  as  they  drifted  along  this  winding 
slough.  These  squaw-men  generally  live  in  sloops, 
and  drift  from  one  Indian  town  to  another,  shoot- 
ing duck,  catching  fish  and  degenerating.  Yet  there 
are  a  few  of  these  men  who  have  homes  and  are 
making  good  livings  for  their  families  and  educating 
their  children. 

We  crossed  the  three  miles  of  Eyak  Lake,  landed 
at  the  Indian  town  of  Eyak,  and  then  portaged  six 
hundred  yards  across  a  peninsula  to  the  Alaska 
Commercial  Company's  fish  cannery.  This  now  is 
the  terminal  of  the  Copper  River  and  Northwestern 
Railroad.  Thence  we  rowed  three  miles  to  Orca, 
where  seventy-five  Copper  River  adventurers  were 
waiting  for  a  steamer  to  take  them  home.  Among 
them  was  a  Mr.  Leonard,  an  old  Rocky  mountain- 
eer, who  was  one  of  the  only  two  men  that  had  ever 
boated  through  all  of  the  Copper  River  rapids,  in- 
cluding the  cataract,  generally  avoided  by  descend- 
ing a  slough.  Those  men  had  no  knowledge  of  the 
slough,  and  disclaimed  any  credit  for  performing 
the  remarkable  feat.  When  Leonard  was  asked  how 
he  had  succeeded,  he  replied: 

"  With  a  pair  of  oars,  a  flat-bottomed  boat,  ig- 
norance and  the  necessary  attributes  that  should  ac- 
company a  pair  of  idiots,  sir!" 

The  next  day  we  boarded  a  steamer  for  Valdez, 


84       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

having  traveled  about  six  hundred  miles  in  fifty-eight 
days,  having  cut  our  way  through  brush  and  timber 
the  greater  portion  of  the  distance.  The  crossing  of 
the  glacier  streams  were  the  most  bitter  reminiscences 
of  the  trip. 

The  man  from  California,  who  had  camped  with* 
us  in  Mentasta  Pass,  proceeded  to  the  Yukon  and 
there  had  met  another  fellow  who  was  so  eager  to 
get  out  of  the  country  that  he  had  offered  the  Cal- 
ifornian  a  large  sum  of  money  if  he  would  take  him 
to  Orca,  and  accepting  it,  he  had  returned  almost 
immediately. 

This  Yukoner  was  an  old  man  and  had  in  his 
possession  about  three  hundred  pounds  of  gold  nug- 
gets. The  reason  of  his  anxiety  to  get  out  by  that 
route,  then  almost  unknown,  may  be  explained  in 
this  wise:  The  Canadian  government  had  retarded 
the  development  of  its  resources  by  levying  a  tax  on 
all  gold  produced.  At  that  time,  the  Klondikers 
were  taxed  one-fifth,  and  probably  because  of  that, 
many  had  slipped  through  the  line  into  Alaska  and 
had  claimed  ever  afterwards  that  they  had  procured 
their  gold  in  Uncle  Sam's  territory. 

There  was  another  class  who  worked  In  the  mines 
for  wages  and  who  stole  nuggets  while  in  the  shafts, 
and  buried  their  treasure  until  they  desired  to  leave. 
Then  it  became  imperatively  necessary  that  they 
should  slip  across  the  line  to  avoid  making  a  state- 
ment of  how  and  where  they  had  procured  the  gold. 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        85 

Those  never  had  dust,  only  nuggets,  such  as  they 
could  pick  up  with  their  fingers. 

The  man  here  mentioned  succeeded  in  arriving 
at  Orca,  and  from  there  traveled  second  class  by 
steamer  to  Juneau.  Any  fellow  who  could  be  guilty 
of  stealing  out  of  the  country  with  gold  would  be 
likely  to  continue  covering  up  his  tracks.  To  pro- 
duce evidence,  in  case  of  future  arrest,  probably  he 
would  deceive  some  reputable  person  to  assist  him 
unwittingly  by  repeating  his  statements.  I  do  not 
say  that  this  particular  Individual  did  that,  but  I  do 
know  that  there  was  an  old  man  who  visited  a  promi- 
nent citizen  of  Juneau  and  disclosed  to  him  that  he 
possessed  that  amount  of  gold  nuggets,  and  repre- 
sented that  he  had  procured  the  gold  In  the  Coast 
Range,  not  far  from  Orca.  He  even  detailed  how 
he  was  out  of  provisions  and  how  he  had  killed  a 
moose  right  near  where  he  had  made  the  discovery, 
although  as  a  matter  of  fact  there  are  no  moose  In 
the  Coast  Range.  He  promised  to  show  the  Juneau 
man  where  he  had  found  the  gold  if  he  would  ac- 
company him  there  the  next  year. 

From  Juneau  that  old  man  had  returned  to  the 
States,  where  he  had  died  the  following  year,  and 
no  doubt  there  are  people  who  are  yet  looking  for 
the  mysterious  and  fabulously  rich  auriferous  de- 
posit which  they  believe  this  old  fellow  found  in  the 
Coast  Range.  They  will  continue  to  do  that,  just 
as  others  have  hunted  for  the  John  Swift  mine  of 


86        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

Kentucky  since  176 1 ;  and  are  looking  for  the  "  Old 
Squaw  Mine"  of  the  Yuma  desert;  and  the  "  Peg- 
Leg"  mines  of  both  California  and  Oregon;  or 
the  Captain  West  "  Mud  Glaciers  "  of  the  Xanana, 
and  dozens  of  other  mirages  that  remain  as  undis- 
turbed delusions  where  the  rainbows  point. 

There  was  no  time  to  rest  at  Valdez,  for  Imme- 
diately I  was  Instructed  to  take  my  transit  and  carry 
triangulations  up  the  Lowe  River  and  approximately 
to  determine  the  altitude  of  the  pass  that  had  been 
discovered  and  reported  by  Corporal  Hyden.  Two 
companions  and  myself  accomplished  the  feat  of 
getting  over  Into  Dutch  Flat  in  four  days  with  two 
mules.  It  could  be  done  in  one  day  now,  as  a  trail 
has  been  blasted  through  the  Keystone  Canyon. 

We  met  Frank  Schrader,  of  the  Geological  Sur- 
vey, In  Dutch  Flat,  and  also  the  soldiers  previously 
mentioned  as  having  come  through  that  way.  A  man 
by  the  name  of  Baird  had  perished  there  a  few 
months  before.  One  of  my  assistants  returned  with 
the  soldiers,  taking  the  mules  with  him,  while  with 
one  companion  I  remained  to  complete  the  survey 
in  a  snow  storm. 

My  companion,  who  was  a  practical  joker,  and  I 
camped  on  our  way  out  without  bedding.  We  built 
a  large  fire,  near  which  I  sat  with  my  back  against 
a  tree.  There  was  a  forty-pound  rock  lying  in  front 
of  me,  and  my  companion  would  sit  on  that  until  I 
would  nearly  freeze.    He  enjoyed  being  between  me 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       87 

and  the  fire.  When  he  was  sufficiently  warmed  In 
front,  he  would  stretch  himself  out,  face  downward, 
and  snore  for  half  an  hour.  When  It  was  neces- 
sary to  warm  his  front,  he  would  wake  up  and  re- 
peat the  performance  of  sitting  In  front  of  me  for 
awhile.  He  always  did  enjoy  anything  of  that  kind, 
so  while  he  was  snoring  I  figured  out  that  I  was 
deeply  In  debt  to  him  for  the  many  practical  jokes 
he  had  played  on  me  during  the  past  Summer,  and 
therefore  concluded  to  square  several  of  the  accounts 
at  one  time. 

I  rolled  that  rock  into  the  fire  and  left  it  there 
until  it  was  too  hot  to  spit  on,  then  with  the  aid  of 
a  stick  of  wood,  I  returned  it  to  its  usual  place.  My 
companion  snored  for  only  a  few  minutes  longer, 
then  arose  and  very  deliberately  sat  down  on  that 
rock.  Immediately  he  displayed  unusual  activity 
by  yelling  a  war-whoop,  jumping  over  the  log  fire, 
and  crashing  down  the  hill  on  the  other  side  with 
a  noise  that  resembled  a  stampede  of  wild  cattle. 
He  returned  rubbing  his  blister,  and  remarked  that 
there  must  be  a  root  on  fire  beneath  that  rock,  as 
it  got  hot  quicker  than  any  rock  he  had  ever  heard 
of.     He  said  he  preferred  to  stand  any  way. 

Pete  Cashman,  Mr.  Stewart  and  Mr.  Ham  left 
on  October  i8,  to  bring  In  the  horses  that  had  been 
left  near  Taral.  It  was  a  useless  undertaking,  as 
the  feed  had  been  frozen  and  they  were  too  weak  to 
travel.     Their  account  of  the  trip  appeared  in  the 


88       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

government  report  of  the  Copper  River  Exploring 
Expedition,  and  reads  like  a  fairy-tale. 

They  encountered  a  bear,  and  after  running  until 
exhausted  they  discovered  that  the  bear  was  running 
in  the  opposite  direction.  Then  they  laughed  and 
wondered  why  that  crazy  bear  had  not  been  holed 
up  for  the  winter.  Often  they  were  lost  and  with- 
out food,  and  all  one  night  they  traveled  in  a  cir- 
cle. In  one  day  they  counted  nine  bears  and  saw 
many  wolverine  tracks.  Once  they  were  caught  in 
an  ice  jam  on  the  river,  but  the  Indians  helped 
them  to  reach  shore  and  housed  them  over  night. 

They  cut  some  meat  from  a  dead  horse  for  food 
and  returned.  Having  frosted  their  hands  and 
faces,  they  were  taken  in  and  fed  on  the  best  the 
Indians  possessed.  Stewart  had  torn  the  fork  of 
his  trousers,  and  after  due  consultation,  several 
squaws  decided  to  mend  them,  but  Stewart  was  bash- 
ful and  preferred  to  sit  cross-legged.  According  to 
the  government  report  two  squaws  grabbed  and  held 
his  hands  while  a  third  pulled  off  his  trousers. 
Stewart  yelled  to  Cashman  for  assistance,  but  Pete 
replied  with  laughter  and  encouraged  the  squaws 
in  their  undertaking.  Stewart  said  afterwards  that 
he  entertained  a  high  opinion  of  Indian  housewifery. 
From  Copper  Center  Pete  undertook  the  hazard- 
ous venture  of  returning  to  Valdez.  He  crossed 
the  lake  and  camped  in  a  tent  where  there^was  a  man 
who  was  badly  frozen  from  having  attempted  to  get 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       89 

over  the  glacier  a  few  days  before.  His  name  was 
Evyan.  Pete  dressed  his  frozen  feet  and  attended 
to  his  wants  the  best  that  he  could,  and  then  lay 
down  beside  his  host  for  a  night's  rest.  When 
awakening  the  next  morning  he  discovered  that  his 
bed  companion  was  cold  in  death.  Fortunately, 
when  Pete  arrived  in  Valdez  he  was  none  the  worse, 
apparently,  for  his  trip. 

On  October  26  the  steamer  Excelsior  took  away 
one-third  of  the  population.  Most  of  those  who  re- 
mained did  so  with  the  intention  of  going  out  on 
the  November  boat,  but  it  failed  to  come.  Straggling 
parties  continued  to  come  over  the  glacier  and  to 
tell  of  their  hairbreadth  escapes.  One  man  became 
so  exhausted  that  he  had  lain  down  to  sleep  on  the 
ice.  His  companions  reasoned  with  him  that  it 
would  be  better  to  shoot  himself,  and  even  offered 
to  lend  him  a  pistol  for  the  purpose,  but  it  was  re- 
fused. Another,  reasoning  that  the  man  should  be 
shot,  walked  up  to  him  and  generously  offered  to  do 
the  shooting.  The  tired  and  sleepy  man  then  de- 
liberately arose  and  was  the  first  of  the  party  to  ar- 
rive in  Valdez. 

Our  little  colony  consisted  of  about  one  hundred 
men  and  nine  women,  all  endeavoring  to  keep  warm 
in  tents  and  a  few  log  cabins,  in  the  midst  of  a 
northern  winter.  Among  them  were  artists,  en- 
gravers, and,  fortunately,  two  physicians.  The  en- 
graver devoted  hours  to  cutting  names  in  gunstocks. 


90       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

the  artists  penciled  distorted  resemblances  of  others, 
and  a  few  played  with  cards.  Others  passed  the 
time  reading  everything  except  the  sky. 

It  was  interesting  to  hear  the  long-haired  six- 
footers  tell  of  their  experiences.    One  man  said: 

"  The  reason  I  came  to  Alaska  was  that  I  had 
nothing  to  lose;  and,  I'll  be  hanged,  gentlemen,  if 
I  didn't  lose  that!  " 

Assistant  Quartermaster  Brown  was  left  in  charge 
of  the  commissary  and,  as  he  was  the  only  official 
there,  he  laughingly  referred  to  himself  as  "  the 
King." 

Duncan  McCabe,  a  Californlan,  and  myself  sat 
by  a  large  cookstove,  with  our  feet  in  the  oven,  and 
talked  of  southern  climes  while  the  snow  drifted 
and  whipped  against  the  house. 

"  The  oranges,"  said  I,  "  are  most  delicious  down 
in  old  California  about  this  time  of  year." 

"  Yes,  and  the  geraniums  are  in  bloom.  They 
bloom  all  Winter  down  there,"  he  answered. 

Then  a  glacial  blast  acted  as  if  It  would  unroof 
the  house,  and  we  nudged  up  closer  to  the  stove  and 
held  our  hands  over  It. 

"  I  have  seen  volunteer  barley  and  wild  oats 
headed  out  there,  at  this  time  of  year,"  I  re- 
marked. 

"  So  have  I.  The  almond  trees  are  In  bloom 
now,  too,"  he  added. 

On  this   topic  we   talked   for  a  long  time, — of 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        91 

watermelon  vines,  new  potatoes  that  would  insist  on 
volunteering  in  the  orchards  where  they  were 
not  wanted, — and  also  of  strawberry  short-cake. 
The  wind  continued  to  whistle,  and  the  weather  ap- 
peared to  me  to  be  getting  rapidly  colder,  but  we 
hugged  closer  to  the  stove  and  continued  the  in- 
teresting conversation. 

Our  pleasant  dreams  were  suddenly  stopped  by 
Charley  Brown  coming  into  the  room.  His  head 
was  all  muffled  up,  and  after  shaking  the  snow 
from  himself  and  stamping  his  feet,  he  deliberately 
walked  up  and  placed  his  bare  hand  on  our  stove. 
Springing  back  he  exclaimed: 

"Jehosephat!  If  you  Californians  aren't  keep- 
ing yourselves  warm  by  talking  about  your  southern 
climate,  with  your  feet  in  the  oven  of  a  stove  that  has 
had  no  fire  in  it  for  three  hours!  "  He  then  walked 
out. 

I  glanced  down  at  the  stove  that  I  knew  was  red 
hot  when  we  began  to  talk,  and  saw  white  frost  on 
it;  then  I  examined  a  bucket  of  water  that  had  been 
placed  near  the  pipe  to  keep  it  warm  and  found  it 
to  be  a  bucket  of  ice.  I  brought  in  some  wood  from 
the  adjoining  wood-house,  while  Duncan  cut  shav- 
ings preparatory  to  starting  a  fire.  Presently  Dun- 
can stopped  and  said: 

"  Blamed  if  he  wasn't  right!  Just  talking  about 
that  country  warmed  us  up.  If  I  only  had  a  bottle 
of  that  climate  here  now,  I  could  pull  the  cork  and 


92       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

make  any  of  them  believe  that  their  house  was  on 
fire!" 

We  had  no  law  except  a  leaning  tree  and  a  rope, 
and  needed  no  other.  It  was  the  most  orderly  com- 
munity imaginable.  Every  individual  felt  that  he 
was  a  juror  in  all  cases  and  accountable  to  the  com- 
munity for  his  own  conduct.  This  little  colony 
represented  a  very  small  percentage  of  the  four 
thousand  people  who  had  invaded  that  part  of  the 
then  unknown.  The  task  of  overcoming  the  appar- 
ently insurmountable  difficulties  of  exploring  that 
great  wonderland  was  left  to  them,  with  their  in- 
domitable will,  energy  and  perseverance.  Two  com- 
panions and  myself  were  fortunate  in  the  possession 
of  a  barrel  of  salmon  bellies,  and  consequently  we 
ate  salmon  bellies  twenty-one  times  per  week. 

These  pioneers  would  come  out  on  the  clear,  crisp 
cold  nights,  and  cluster  in  groups  to  witness  the 
beautiful  scenes  that  were  enacted  on  the  northern 
stage,  where  the  sky-curtain  trembled  in  dim  aurora. 
We  were  embayed  in  calm  seclusion  in  another 
world,  and  had  received  no  word  or  line  from  loved 
ones  at  home  during  the  preceding  fourth  of  the 
year,  as  no  boat  had  rippled  the  bay  for  three  long 
months. 

They  stood  hand  to  hand,  heart  to  heart  and  soul 
to  soul;  hand  to  hand  to  explore  these  unknown 
wilds;  heart  to  heart  to  assist  their  sick  and  needy 
companions;  and  soul  to  soul  to  commit  to  graves 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       93 

dug  in  icy  soil  the  frozen  bodies  of  their  number 
who  had  perished  in  glacier  blizzards. 

Three  to  five  thousand  feet  above  and  surround- 
ing us  were  rock-ribbed  and  impenetrable  walls  of 
pinnacled  mountains,  weird,  cold  and  desolate, 
statuesque  and  awe-inspiring.  There  were  cavern- 
ous recesses  and  precipitous  walls  defiled  with 
gorges  of  gleaming  ice.  The  high  winds  sheeted 
the  snow  from  the  pinnacled  crests,  and  the  moon, 
hidden  from  our  view  by  the  mountain,  sent  its  scin- 
tillating rays  to  be  reflected  down  through  those 
particles  as  if  making  the  whole  mountain  to  appear 
as  though  it  were  burning  vividly  with  a  golden 
flame.  The  spectacular  extravaganza  of  the  north- 
land! 

A  party  of  us  stood  admiring  the  display  on  the 
night  of  November  i8,  and  a  lady  asked  her  hus- 
band what  were  the  weather  indications  of  those 
flames. 

"  Well,  my  dear,  those  flames  have  the  appearance 
of  smoke  in  daytime.  You  have  seen  these  moun- 
tains smoke,  haven't  you?"  he  answered. 

"  Yes,  this  very  afternoon." 

"  That  means,  because  those  crests  are  on  the  same 
altitude  as  the  glacier,  that  a  high  wind  is  blowing 
on  the  summit;  and  the  flames  and  smoke  plainly 
say,  '  Keep  off  the  glacier ! '  These  northeasters 
last  several  days  and  to-morrow  the  '  woollies  '  will 
hurl  great  volumes  of  snow  along  here  and  out  into 


94        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

the  bay.  These  naked  trees  will  then  whistle  the 
same  tune  that  they  always  play  on  such  occasions. 
God  help  the  boys  who  attempt  to  cross  the  glacier 
to-morrow." 

With  her  head  resting  on  his  shoulder,  her  heart- 
felt reply  was : 

"  I  do  hope  none  will  make  the  attempt." 

The  next  day  the  blizzard  came  as  predicted.  We 
were  content  to  remain  indoors,  and  scrape  the  frost 
off  the  windows  and  watch  the  snow  leave  the  moun- 
tain-tops and,  driven  back  into  moisture,  go  float- 
ing off  over  the  Pacific  in  the  form  of  clouds.  This 
nebulous  mass  of  vapor  was  not  merely  a  ghostly 
apparition,  or  evil  omen,  but  the  genuine  evil  itself, 
on  a  mission  of  death  to  every  living  thing  it  might 
encounter. 

That  night  the  only  social  hall  was  crowded  with 
men  In  great  overcoats.  The  surrounded  card  tables 
were  echoing  the  clinking  of  coin,  and  the  fireman 
shoved  large  chunks  of  spruce  into  the  stove,  while 
the  wind  shook  the  building  with  a  warning  of  its 
terrible  power.  The  gambling  suddenly  ceased,  and 
with  greetings  of  astonishment,  the  crowd  parted  as 
six  men  walked  into  their  midst  with  ice  clinging  to 
their  beards  and  hair. 

They  had  crossed  the  glacier! 

Six  out  of  nine  had  succeeded  in  the  attempt.  The 
last  man  to  drop  out  of  line  was  Mike  Smith,  of 
Chicago. 


Trailing   and   Camping  in  AlasJca       95 

"  Boys,  I  can  go  no  further,"  he  had  said,  and 
had  tumbled  over  in  the  snow,  while  a  gust  of  wind 
had  carried  the  others  far  down  the  glacier. 

Of  those  who  had  succeeded,  Spotts,  William 
Grogg  and  Robert  Furgusen  were  unhurt;  but  Syl- 
vester Grogg,  of  St.  Joe,  Missouri,  and  Mr.  Polo- 
witch  and  Mr.  Cohn  of  New  York,  were  in  a  sor- 
rowful condition.  They  were  hurried  into  a  cold 
room,  and  bathed  in  ice  water  until  their  footwear 
and  mits  could  be  removed. 

One  night,  seven  days  after  this  occurrence,  Cohn 
lay  suffering  with  a  fever  caused  by  the  exposure. 
He  was  resting  on  a  cot  in  a  cabin  loft,  and  when 
the  "  woollies "  snow-whipped  the  roof  he  would 
start  up  in  wild  excitement.  Once  he  arose  in  bed, 
and  with  a  look  of  frenzy  gazed  towards  the  stair- 
way, while  the  lone  attendant  vainly  tried  to  pacify 
him.  Presently  his  look  changed  to  a  calm  expres- 
sion of  happiness  and  he  exclaimed : 

"  Good  Lord !  And  you  have  come  to  me  I  How 
good  of  you !  "  Then  he  dropped  back  on  his  pil- 
low and  mumbled: 

"Don't  cry,  dear;  it  was  for  your  sake  that  I 
came  and  crossed  the  glacier,  gla-gla-cier."  For 
a  few  minutes  he  was  in  a  deep  sleep,  then  he  awoke 
and  with  a  perfectly  sane  expression  said: 

"My  wife  came  to  see  me.  She  stood  right 
there  and  looked  just  as  natural  as  ever.  Wasn't 
that  kind  of  her?     Poor  girl!     She  has  gone  for 


96       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

something  to  eat  and  will  be  back  soon.     Say,  please 
tell  her  not  to  cry." 

He  shut  his  eyes  and  a  tear  rolled  down  his  cheek 
and  the  lone  strange  attendant  stood  by  the  bed  a 
few  minutes,  felt  his  pulse,  then  turned  away  and 
wiped  the  tears  from  his  eyes,  while  the  north  wind 
moaned  a  lonely  requiem  to  the  dead.  On  Novem- 
ber 28  a  procession  followed  a  sled  on  which  were 
the  remains  of  Henry  Cohn,  and  so  there  were  only 
five  left  of  the  nine  who  had  attempted  to  cross 
the  glacier  in  November,  1898. 


CHAPTER  VII 

The  writer  has  tried  and  feels  justified  in  recommending 
the  old  infallible  preventive  of  seasickness:  It  is,  STAY  ON 
LAND. 

We  suffered  the  ennui  of  solitude  and  seemed  to 
drift  as  did  the  snow  from  December  Into  January. 
We  watched  the  year  of  1898  go  out  and  1899 
come  In,  as  a  mile-post  along  our  adventurous  life- 
trail.  The  sun  winked  and  blinked  at  us  for  a  few 
minutes,  and  then  would  hide  behind  rugged  moun- 
tains for  nearly  24  hours.  The  luminary  began  to 
be  a  little  bolder  In  January,  and  laughingly  played 
*'  peek-a-boo  "  with  us  as  It  flitted  from  peak  to  peak. 
We  often  spent  our  Sundays  at  the  little  Christian 
Endeavor  meetings  conducted  by  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Goss,  Melvin  Dempsey  and  others.  They  were  the 
good-hearted  kind  that  the  gambler  probably  would 
describe  as  "  standing  pat "  on  heaven  and  "  sluff- 
ing  "  on  hell. 

Mrs.  Beatty  occasionally  went  Into  a  trance  and 
claimed  thereby  to  be  able  to  see  things  that  others 
could  not.  She  said  that  on  the  afternoon  of  Janu- 
ary 18  she  could  see  a  boat  steaming  up  the  bay. 
As  this  was  several  days  before  that  date,  It  was 
received  with  Interest  by  many,  as  the  truth  of  It 
could  be  verified  on  that  day.     It  was  unreasonable 

97 


98       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

to  expect  a  steamer  there  in  the  middle  of  winter,  as 
we  knew  of  none  so  scheduled. 

When  the  i8th  day  of  January  arrived,  very  little 
attention  was  paid  to  the  prophecy,  unless  it  were 
to  deride  it.  I,  being  of  such  an  unbelieving  nature 
about  such  things,  was  more  surprised  than  others, 
when  precisely  as  Mrs.  Beatty  had  described,  the 
steamer  whistle  was  heard,  and  there  we  saw  the 
little  steamer  Wolcott  slowly  approaching,  on 
time  to  a  minute.  The  truthfulness  of  that  predic- 
tion was  an  agreeable  surprise  to  all,  and  the  steamer 
had  no  more  than  cast  anchor  when  dozens  of  small 
boats  surrounded  It.  We  were  all  eager  to  receive 
news  from  home,  and  It  was  six  months  old  when 
we  got  it. 

The  little  steamer  was  quickly  filled  with  passen- 
gers who  felt  they  had  served  their  term  at  Valdez, 
and  now  desired  to  finish  the  winter  somewhere  else. 
I  was  making  a  preliminary  survey  of  the  town  site 
of  Valdez  when  the  boat  arrived,  and  I,  too,  boarded 
for  Sitka  to  record  the  boundary.  Willingly  we  gave 
up  the  limited  first-class  accommodations  to  our  in- 
valids, and  on  the  night  of  the  20th,  left  Prince 
William  Sound  for  the  moving  mountains  and  can- 
yons, peaks  and  gulches  of  a  storm-maddened  ocean. 

Notwithstanding  that  the  way  below-deck  was 
protected  by  a  hood  partly  boarded  up,  barrels 
of  water  poured  down  the  stairway.  Three  of  us 
stood  on  the  steps  with  our  heads  out  from  that 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       99 

aperture.  One  exclaimed  "  Europe !  "  another 
"  New  York!  "  and  I  said  "  Amen!  "  I  was  pre- 
pared to  change  my  position  for  one  on  deck,  and  by 
the  assistance  of  the  rolhng  sea,  succeeded.  I  shot 
through  that  aperture  lengthwise  and  rolled  over 
on  deck  in  about  two  feet  of  salt  water.  As  the 
boat  careened,  I  rolled  back  and  tried  to  knock  down 
the  mainmast.  Holding  to  it,  I  struggled  to  my  feet 
while  a  barrel  of  salt  water  struck  the  mast  above 
and  deluged  the  back  of  my  neck,  while  a  similar 
consignment  shot  up  the  legs  of  my  trousers  from 
the  deck.  There  was  a  commotion  where  the  waters 
met,  but  it  was  the  internal  commotion  which  was 
the  most  troublesome.  It  took  but  a  minute  to  be- 
come thoroughly  drenched,  but  several  minutes  to 
get  back  into  that  hole.  When  everything  was  fa- 
vorable, I  shot  down,  head  first — In  a  business  sort 
of  a  way,  but  once  down  below,  I  did  not  stand 
around  waiting  for  someone  to  tell  me  what  to  do, 
but  re-entered  the  gagging  contest  with  renewed  en- 
ergy. 

The  wind  was  a  howling  success.  The  boat  would 
enter  a  wave  with  a  slap  and  a  bang;  then  It  would 
groan,  and  so  would  everybody  on  board.  The  pro- 
peller was  as  often  whirling  and  rattling  above  the 
water  as  beneath  it,  while  the  waves  occasionally 
dashed  over  the  entire  vessel. 

The  anger  of  the  storm  had  abated  by  the  next 
morning,  but  that  of  the  sea  had  not.     We  had 


100       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

drifted  far  to  the  westward,  with  no  land  In  sight, 
and  where  the  balmy  breeze  Indicated  that  It  was 
just  from  the  "  Flowery  Kingdom."  A  man  down 
below  had  the  hiccoughs  as  well-regulated  as  a 
clock,  and  too  well-regulated  for  my  nerves,  so  I 
climbed  to  the  deck  and  held  on  to  a  rope  beside  an- 
other man  who  had  them  regulated  down  to  half 
seconds.  For  two  days  we  bucked  the  heavy  seas 
without  eating,  although  Captain  Crockett,  said  to 
be  a  grandson  of  Davy  Crockett,  claimed  that  he 
had  the  best  of  food  on  board.  That  little  steamer 
was  afterwards  totally  wrecked  on  the  coast  of 
Kayak  Island. 

When  we  landed  at  Juneau,  the  streets  and  houses 
appeared  to  rock  to  and  fro,  up  and  down,  for  the 
first  twenty-four  hours,  while  we,  when  walking, 
braced  ourselves  cautiously  for  ground  swells. 
Others,  who  lived  there,  said  they  could  notice  no 
ground  swells,  but  we  did.  We  gave  lifelike  Im- 
personations of  a  drunken,  dissipated  lot  of 
rounders,  recovering  from  the  spree  of  their  lives, 
and  Indeed  we  were.     We  felt  just  that  way. 

Juneau  had  been  the  dumping  ground  for  hun- 
dreds of  stranded  Copper  RIverltes,  who  had  been 
shipped  out  at  the  expense  of  the  government  and 
steamship  companies.  They  had  given  the  Copper 
River  country  a  bad  name,  and  I  astonished  an  In- 
terrogator by  answering  that  I  Intended  to  return  In 
the  spring.     I  met  him  on  the  beach  at  the  time,  and 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        101 

when  the  astonished  fellow  recovered  his  speech, 
he  called  to  his  companion,  who  was  some  distance 
away,  and  said: 

"  O  John !  Here  is  a  fellow  from  Copper  River!  " 
John  replied  that  he  had  seen  enough  of  those 
fellows,  whereupon  the  first  speaker  answered: 
"  Yes,  but  this  durn  fool  is  going  back!  " 
The  first  two  mules  brought  to  Alaska  were 
landed  at  Sitka,  and  later,  one  was  brought  to 
Juneau,  where,  after  looking  around  at  the  strange 
mountainland  of  rock  and  moss,  he  deliberately 
walked  down  to  the  beach  and  committed  suicide 
by  drowning.  Human  beings  have  been  known  to 
commit  suicide  at  Juneau,  but  the  place  does  not 
appear  to  suggest  any  particular  inducements  for  it. 
Juneau  is  a  hillside  town,  with  electric  lights,  busi- 
ness houses  and  hotels.  Dogteams  did  a  thriving 
dray  business,  I  remember,  and  little  boys,  with 
stomachs  on  hand-sleds,  scooted  down  hill  with  a 
whoop  of  warning  to  pedestrians.  There  were  dance 
halls,  and  gaming  tables,  with  fools  on  one  side  and 
thieves  on  the  other;  and  open-mouthed  slot  ma- 
chines gaping  for  nickels  and  half  dollars.  There 
was  a  good  society,  a  church,  a  school  and  a  library. 
The  following  bit  of  Juneau's  history  was  obtained 
from  Reuben  Albertstone,  a  reliable  pioneer  of 
Alaska : 

"  In  1867    an  Indian  brought  into  Fort  Wrangell 
a  small  quantity  of  rock  which  was  rich  with  wire 


102        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 


gold.  Merchants  were  Induced  to  outfit  a  party  of 
prospectors  to  accompany  him  to  the  place  of  discov- 
ery. They  pulled  their  canoes  up  the  coast  as  far  as 
Sum  Dum,  where  they  found  gold  and  refused  far- 
ther to  follow  the  Indian. 

"  The  disgusted  Indian  returned  to  Wrangell  and 
subsequently  died  in  the  Victoria  Hospital,  at  Van- 
couver, but  when  dying  he  gave  the  secret  to  another 
Indian,  who  returned  to  Wrangell.  It  was  about 
thirteen  years  after  the  first  Indian  had  attempted  to 
show  where  he  had  found  the  auriferous  rock,  that 
Indian  No.  2  started  from  Sitka  with  Richard  Har- 
ris and  Joe  Juneau.  They  landed  at  what  was  then 
known  as  Big  Auk  village,  now  Juneau.  It  was  with 
considerable  persuasion  that  the  Indian  succeeded  in 
getting  his  companions  to  ascend  the  steep  mountain 
into  Silver  Bow  Basin.  After  satisfying  themselves  of 
the  value  of  the  discovery,  they  proceeded  to  hold  a 
miners'  meeting  and  to  organize  a  district  which  they 
called  'Harris.' 

"Imagine  Harris,  sitting  on  a  rock,  as  chairman; 
Juneau  as  secretary  and  the  Indian  as  an  interested 
audience.  In  this  manner  motions  were  made,  sec- 
onded and  carried,  and  the  Indian  was  satisfied  to 
receive  one  hundred  dollars  for  his  trouble  and  in- 
telligent assistance. 

"  When  the  little  town  was  started,  it  went  by  the 
name  of  Harrisburg,  until  Joe  Juneau  concluded  that 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        103 


his  odd  name  should  be  handed  down  to  posterity. 
He  reasoned  that  it  was  enough  for  Diclc  Harris 
to  have  his  name  spread  all  over  a  mining  district, 
without  having  it  stuck  on  all  letters  received  therein. 
Brooding  over  these  facts,  as  he  stumbled  down  the 
trail  to  Harrisburg,  he  determined  to  have  a  '  blow- 
out'  and  he  did.     He  not  only  invited  everybody 
there  to  drink  to  his  health,  but  announced  himself 
as  the  father  of  the  place.    The  crowd  rent  the  air 
with  cheers  and  every  man  threw  up  his  hat  in  his 
exultation  at  the  prospect  of  another  drink  at  the 
expense  of  the  self-asserted  '  dad.'    Again  and  again 
they  obeyed  orders  by  stepping  into  line  with  mili- 
tary precision  in  front  of  the  saloon  bar,  and  '  looked 
at '  Joe. 

"  Dancut  Peterson  mounted  an  inverted  whiskey 
barrel,  and  calling  the  meeting  to  order,  he  made  the 
desired  motion  to  change  the  name  of  Harrisburg  to 
that  of  Juneau.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  motion 
was  carried,  and  that  the  stream  of  good  feeling  con- 
tinued to  flow  down  their  throats.  The  crowd  in- 
tended the  christening  as  a  joke,  but  the  name  stuck. 
Joe  prided  himself  ever  after  as  being  the  paternal 
ancestor  of  the  town,  while  Dick  Harris  proclaimed 
Joe  as  his  personal  enemy." 

Then  my  informer  watched  the  curling  smoke  of 
his  cigar,  while  he  recovered  his  thoughts  from  the 
days  when  the  natives  claimed  that  it  was  dangerous 


104       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

to  land  on  Douglass  Island  because  of  the  many 
bears. 

Most  of  the  men  who  stopped  at  our  hotel  in 
Juneau,  desired  neither  work  nor  riches,  but  simply 
argument  and  plenty  of  it.  Their  animated  voices 
were  incessantly  heard  in  wordy  battle.  When  one 
subject  was  exhausted  by  ridicule,  abuse  and  false 
representation,  some  fertile  brain  would  introduce 
another. 

Our  social  hall  was  a  large  room  in  which  was  a 
bar,  but  it  was  seldom  that  any  one  took  a  drink.  An 
intoxicated  fellow  entered  and  called  for  a  drink,  but 
the  bartender  refused  him,  and  that  was  a  signal  for 
argument.  One  contentious  old  quartzite  asked  the 
question: 

*'  Does  whiskey  do  more  harm  than  good?  " 

He  did  that  to  get  some  one's  opinion  so  that  he 
could  oppose  him.  The  bartender  said  it  did,  and 
that  he  never  drank  a  drop,  while  others  contended 
that  he  might  as  well  find  fault  with  food  because  a 
few  gluttons  ate  too  much. 

The  subject  was  gradually  turned  upon  the  inspira- 
tion of  the  Bible,  and  the  bartender  defended  it  by 
producing  one  from  behind  the  bar  and  reading  from 
it.  Imagine  that  man,  behind  a  whiskey  bar,  with 
the  Bible  spread  thereon,  and  a  dozen  prospectors 
standing  in  front,  not  to  drink,  but  to  hear  that 
*'  barkeep  "  expound  the  Scriptures !  Verily  Alaska 
Is  a  place  of  unusual  incidents! 


Trailing   and   Vamping  in   Alaska       105 

The  Taku  winds,  so  called  because  of  the  draught 
down  Taku  Inlet,  occasionally  blow  down  off  those 
mountains  with  considerable  force.  An  Indian  was 
asked  if  it  often  blew  so  hard  there,  and  he  replied: 

"  Yep,  he  blow,  he  blow — and — by  and  by  he  blow 
some  more  I  " 

We  could  plainly  hear  the  blasting  at  the  famous 
Treadwell  mines,  three  miles  away,  and  concluded  to 
inspect  them.  A  few  minutes'  ride  on  a  little  steamer 
and  we  were  landed  there.  We  found  a  pretty  hill- 
side town  composed  of  workmen  and  their  families. 
Regular  pay  for  steady  employment  Is  conducive  to 
good  citizenship,  and  impressive  contentment,  just  as 
merry  children  and  cosy  homes  are  indicative  of 
domestic  happiness.  This  mine  is  not  of  a  high- 
grade  ore,  but  it  gives  a  guarantee  to  both  capital 
and  labor.  At  this  writing,  1909,  a  tunnel  extends 
under  the  mountain  twenty-five  hundred  feet,  and 
Expert  Roberts  of  San  Francisco  says:  "They  are 
uncovering  enough  workable  ore  to  operate  a  thou- 
sand stamps  for  a  thousand  years." 

According  to  the  company's  reports  for  the  year  of 
1899,  the  total  cost  of  milling  and  mining  was  $1.47 
per  ton,  which  left  a  clear  profit  of  96  cents.  When 
you  enter  one  of  those  buildings  you  know  that  you 
are  in  the  worst  racket  of  your  life.  Attempt  to  say 
something,  and  you  realize  that  while  your  lips  and 
jaws  are  working,  you  can't  hear  your  own  voice. 
This  may  be  a  laughable  sensation,  but  you  can't 


106       2' railing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

hear  your  own  laugh,  and  for  once  you  are  deaf  and 
dumb. 

We  looked  at  the  broken  rock  in  water,  as  it  was 
fed  beneath  the  stamps,  and  watched  it  come  out  as 
a  milky-colored  fluid.  It  is  rocked  over  concentra- 
ting tables;  and  afterwards  the  water  and  light  ma- 
terial is  conducted  to  the  sea,  while  the  mineral  is 
poured  into  troughs  and  sacked  for  other  refining 
processes.  We  looked  at  the  "  glory  hole,"  a  huge 
hopper,  several  acres  in  extent  at  the  top.  Here 
rock  was  being  blasted  off  from  its  sides  to  tumble 
to  the  bottom.  It  was  wheeled  to  elevators  to  be 
carried  up  to  the  mills,  there  to  be  reduced  to  the 
desired  size  for  the  stamps  and  then  fed  down 
through  them. 

And  this  is  the  Treadwell — the  largest  gold  quartz 
mine  in  the  world!  The  greatest  collection  of 
stamps  on  the  globe!  Where  four  million  dollars 
of  gold  has  been  taken  out,  and  mostly  for  the  en- 
richment of  Europeans.  Where  there  are  thirty  miles 
of  tunnels,  and  where  one  can  walk  out  under  the 
harbor  with  the  steamships  floating  twelve  hundred 
feet  above!  What  a  shame  that  American  capital- 
ists will  cut  each  others'  throats  by  gambling  in  the 
non-productive  stock  market,  instead  of  developing 
our  resources  which  now  lie  dormant,  awaiting  the 
magic  wand  of  financial  assistance! 

Alaska  possesses  hundreds  of  natural  opportunities 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       107 

for  millions  of  wealth  to  be  invested  profitably  in 
gold,  copper  and  tin  mines.  The  poor  but  honest 
miner  can  receive  no  assistance  from  his  own  coun- 
trymen, while  it  has  been  said  that  the  miner  is  a 
liar  with  a  hole  in  the  ground,  but  I  say,  generally 
speaking,  the  promoter  hasn't  even  a  hole. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

Skagzvay  to  many  voyagers  has  been  the  gateway  to  the 
Yukon,  to  hardships  and  to  death;  to  others  to  fortune  and  to 
happiness;  while  to  a  jew  it  has  been  the  gateway  to  the 
penitentiary. 

I  ARRIVED  at  Skagway  after  a  'day's  ride  on  a 
steamer.  Failing  to  secure  a  private  room,  I  en- 
gaged a  bed  among  about  forty  snoring  room-mates. 
Sleep  was  impossible,  because  there  was  no  system 
about  their  snoring.  Although  the  performance  was 
a  medley,  it  was  by  no  means  a  tuneful  discord. 
The  snorers  were  about  evenly  matched,  nose  and 
nose,  when  a  new  entry  undertook  to  win  the  race 
by  a  sudden  burst  of  energy,  a  regular  sprint  of  a 
snore  that  put  him  far  in  the  lead.  He  excited  my 
curiosity  and  admiration.  As  he  was  from  my  end 
of  the  room  I  proceeded  mentally  to  bet  my  last  dol- 
lar on  him,  when  he  suddenly  "  flew  the  track," 
jumped  the  fence  and  collapsed.  Evidently  his  pop- 
valve  was  out  of  order. 

I  paid  four  dollars  for  a  room  to  be  used  the  next 
night,  with  the  hope  of  securing  some  rest;  but  that 
was  another  disappointment.  A  couple  committed 
matrimony  in  the  same  house,  and  certainly  I  shall 
remember  the  incident,  whether  they  do  or  not. 
About  one  hundred  barbarians  organized  a  discord- 

108 


Lr, 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        109 

ant  serenade  with  tinpans  and  cowbells,  cornets  and 
horns,  and  when  that  hideous  turmoil  of  human 
hyenas  ceased,  the  howling,  barking  canines  con- 
tinued it  for  the  rest  of  the  night.  There  were  dogs 
there  for  every  individual,  valued  at  prices  ranging 
from  five  to  five  hundred  dollars  each. 

All  nationalities  were  represented  at  Skagway. 
There  was  the  gasconading  mountebank  as  well  as 
the  secretive  gambler.  There  were  others  who 
showed  refinement  and  whose  speech  betrayed  deep 
thought  and  erudition.  Others  again  were  dressed 
in  all  sorts  of  costumes.  A  few  wore  red  hoods  with 
long  tassels  hanging  down  their  backs,  causing  one  to 
have  visions  of  Turks  or  Arabs. 

An  aged  man  was  sitting  In  the  hotel  lobby,  busily 
engaged  In  figuring  on  his  red-tanned  boot  with  a 
pencil.     Presently  he  said: 

"  Say,  mister,  did  you  ever  figure  on  what  Klon- 
dike is  now  doing  for  the  world,  and  the  gold 
standard?  " 

"  I  confess  that  I  have  not,"  I  answered. 

"  Well,  sir,  I  am  nearly  eighty  years  old,  and  I 
have  spent  most  of  my  days  In  mining  countries.  I 
have  been  in  Alaska  for  more  than  twenty  years. 
Old  man  Church  has  been  there  thirty  years.  But 
that  is  not  what  I  started  in  to  say.  You  probably 
know  that  the  United  States  was  a  pauper  in  '46 
and  '47.  Farmers  were  trading  work  and  they  didn't 
know  what  money  looked  like.     The  discovery  of 


110       Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

gold  in  California  brought  good  times,  and  people 
pricked  up  their  ears  and  acted  as  if  there  was  some- 
thing in  life  worth  living  for.  Young  men  who  had 
returned  from  the  West,  bought  land,  married  and 
settled  down,  and  put  their  gold  into  circulation. 
Well,  the  discovery  of  gold  in  Australia  did  the  same 
thing  for  the  world,  and  so  did  that  of  Africa;  and 
now  Klondike  steps  into  the  ring  just  as  the  precious 
metal  was  being  cornered  and  hard  times  were  com- 
ing on.  Why,  my  dear  fellow,  it  would  surprise  us 
if  we  could  follow  only  one  thousand  dollars  of  that 
gold  which  goes  down  to  the  States  and  pays  debts. 
It  would  be  seen  that  it  paid  a  million  dollars  of  debts 
In  no  time.  And  it  is  put  In  circulation  where  It  Is 
most  needed. 

"  Of  course,  It  Is  not  always  properly  started.  I 
have  known  rattle-brains  up  there  who  have  never 
realized  that  such  good  luck  only  happens  once  In  a 
lifetime,  and  they  are  there,  now,  just  throwing 
away  the  money  with  both  hands.  One  hand  Is  not 
fast  enough  for  them,  and  they  keep  waiters  busy 
uncorking  champagne  at  ten  dollars  per  bottle.  They 
won't  last  long.  I  knew  one  fellow  to  cry  because 
some  sharpers  got  him  drunk,  took  eight  hundred 
dollars  of  his  Forty-mile  dust  and  Instead  placed  a 
deed  to  a  claim  which  they  had  located  up  a  creek  in 
his  pocket.  Then  they  lit  out  on  a  down-river  boat 
and  there  he  was  broke  and  blubbering  about  not 
knowing  what  to  do  with  a  mining  claim. 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        111 

"  Well,  old  John  Healey  says,  *  Ye  blubberln' 
idiot,  come  In  to  my  store  and  git  what  ye  want  of 
grub,  and  go  up  there  and  see  what  ye  have.  Sink 
a  hole  and  find  out  about  it,  fer  ye  might  have  some- 
thing good ;  and  I'd  rather  have  ye  owin'  me  fer  the 
grub,  than  to  see  ye  feelin'  bad  and  busted.' 

"  Well,  he  did  load  up  with  grub,  and  went  up 
there  and  struck  it  rich,  and  now  he  Is  one  of  those 
fellers  who  can't  spend  money  fast  enough.  Why, 
he  says  he  thinks  he  used  good  judgment  in  buying 
that  claim !  " 

Then  my  informer  clapped  his  thighs  and  laughed, 
and  presently  he  continued: 

"  There's  another  '  Sweet- William  '  sort  of  a  fel- 
low, who  is  now  engaged  to  marry  a  whole  family  of 
chorus  girls.  Just  as  rapidly  as  possible  he  marries 
one,  and  she  gets  a  divorce  and  divides  his  money 
with  him,  and  then  he  marries  another.  He  says 
he'll  marry  their  mother,  after  he  gets  through  with 
the  girls,  if  his  money  holds  out.  I'll  gamble  that 
he  won't  have  any  money  after  the  old  woman 
divides  with  him.  She  may  give  him  back  his  empty 
purse,  but  I  doubt  it! 

"  But — say  !  That's  not  what  I  started  in  to  tell. 
I  just  figured  out  that  it  would  require  a  pack-train 
of  four  hundred  animals  to  bring  out  one  year's  pro- 
duction of  gold  from  the  Klondike.  Now,  if  you 
allow  each  animal  his  usual  thirty-three  feet  on  the 
trail,  you  will  have  a  train  two  and  a  half  miles  long ! 


112        Trailing   and    Campirig   in    Alaska 

That's  what  a  pencil  and  that  old  boot  can  do  with 
a  little  assistance  from  me  and  the  Klondike!" 

*'  I  suppose  you  are  leaving  the  country  for  good, 
are  you  not?  "  I  asked. 

*'  Yes,  I  reckon  I  am,"  he  answered.  "  I  have  not 
been  back  home  since  I  first  came  to  Alaska.  You 
see,  directly  after  I  came  up  here,  my  wife  died,  and 
my  little  girl  was  well  taken  care  of  by  relatives.  I 
paid  for  her  care  and  education,  and  now  I  hear  she 
has  married  and  is  doing  well.  I  have  sent  for  her 
and  her  husband  to  meet  me  here,  and  I  intend  to  go 
back  home  with  them.  I  have  dust  enough  to  keep 
them  and  me,  and  I  don't  want  to  bother  with  it.  I 
expect  them  on  the  next  boat.  I  have  been  here  for 
nearly  a  month,  now." 

Then  a  large  huskie  dog  came  into  the  room  and 
laid  his  head  on  the  old  man's  lap  and  inquiringly 
looked  up.     The  old  man  stroked  the  dog  and  said: 

"  Yes,  old  Mose.  I  know  you  want  to  ask  some- 
thing. It  is  too  bad  for  you  that  you  can't  talk,  but 
it  probably  is  a  good  thing  for  me;  for  you  would  be 
pesterin'  me  to  death,  askin'  questions.  I  suppose 
you  want  to  know  when  the  old  man  is  going  to  hit 
the  trail  back  to  Dawson.  Well,  old  boy,  we  never 
will  see  that  trail  again,  for  we  are  going  to  where 
there's  no  sour  dough,  but  the  luxury  and  ease  we 
both  deserve." 

"Your  dog?"  I  asked. 

*'  Yes,  always  has  been  mine,  ever  since  he  was  a 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska        113 


pup.  He  once  saved  my  life.  You  should  have  heard 
an  Englishman  apologize  to  this  dog!  I  loaned 
Mase  to  him  to  teach  his  dogs  to  work.  He 
had  Mose  on  the  lead,  and  continued  to  say  '  gee ' 
until  Mose  had  his  sled  nearly  off  the  trail  and  ready 
to  roll  down  the  canyon.  Then  the  Englishman 
yelled,  'whoa!'  Mose  stopped  and  the  Enghsh- 
man  said: 

"'Ah,  beg  your  pawden!     I  meant  haw,  dont- 

cher  know ! ' 

"  Mose  just  crossed  over  to  the  other  side  of  the 
trail  and  looked  back  at  that  Englishman  with  a 
genuine  dog-laugh,  and  the  driver  seemed  never  to 
get  through  apologizing." 

Then  my  entertainer  clapped  his  thigh  and  laughed 
heartily. 

"I  suppose  you  place  a  high  value  on  him?"  I 
ventured  to  ask. 

Immediately  his  countenance  sobered,  and  while 
he  affectionately  stroked  the  dog,  he  replied: 

"  Mister,  don't  ask  me  to  place  a  value  on  my 
partner.  I  couldn't  think  of  it!  Why,  if  I  should 
lose  my  poke  of  dust,  rather  than  to  part  with  Mose, 
we  would  hit  the  trail  back  and  try  for  another 
raise." 

Evidently,  this  was  another  of  those  frontier  noble- 
men,  whose  characters  stand  out  in  such  strong  con- 
trast with  the  spendthrifts  he  had  mentioned,  both 
of  whom  have  since  descended  the  ladder  to  the  bot- 


114        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

torn  rung.  When  the  latter  was  asked  what  he  had 
done  with  the  fortune  he  had  made  on  the  Klondike, 
he  held  up  three  fingers  and  exclaimed: 

"Three  blondes!" 

A  meeting  had  been  held  down  at  the  wharf,  a 
year  before,  to  rid  the  town  of  "  Soapy  "  Smith  and 
his  gambling  and  robbing  clique.  "  Soapy  "  heard 
of  the  meeting  and  went  down  there,  armed  \Vlth  a 
rifle,  to  break  it  up.  Frank  Reid  was  left  on  guard, 
and  he  gave  up  his  life  for  the  honor  of  Skagway. 
As  "  Soapy  "  approached  they  both  fired  with  fatal 
results,  and  their  two  graves  are  up  yonder  beside  the 
trail.  "  Soapy  "  Smith's  real  name  was  Jefferson  R. 
Smith,  of  whom  the  "  Tramp  Poet,"  William  De- 
Vere,  wrote  the  verses  entitled  "  Jeff  and  Joe,"  de- 
scribing an  incident  that  happened  at  Creede,  Colo- 
rado. 

Skagway,  the  town  of  sudden  and  unexpected  birth, 
is  not  without  its  history  of  startling  and  pathetic 
incidents.  An  account  of  the  following  tragedy  was 
related  to  me  in  detail  by  an  Indian  Interpreter,  and 
corresponds  with  the  records  in  Skagway's  court: 

Bert  Horton  and  his  wife,  from  Oregon,  were 
spending  the  first  year  of  their  married  life  in  Alaska, 
and  had  left  Skagway  in  a  small  rowboat  for  a 
summer's  outing.  The  day  of  their  departure  was 
one  of  the  long  summer  sort  whose  sunshine  and 
shade  are  conducive  to  day-dreaming. 

They  directed  their  boat  down  along  the  shore  of 
that  long  slender  arm  of  the  sea,  known  as  Lynn 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        115 

Canal,  searching  for  a  quiet  camping  place  among  the 
trees,  where  moss  covered  the  ground  and  wild  roses 
breathed  a  welcome.  Through  an  opening  in  the 
forest  they  noted  an  inviting  locality,  and  landing 
their  boat  on  the  beach,  climbed  to  it.  There  they 
erected  their  tent,  put  up  a  Yukon  stove,  and  soon 
were  partaking  of  the  first  meal  in  their  summer 
home.  Happy?  Why  not?  They  belonged  to  the 
class  that  commands  respect,  and  they  enjoyed  the 
affection  of  their  many  friends.  They  possessed  even 
more,  and  that  was  their  mutual  contentment  in  each 
other's  love.  They  had  come  from  the  humdrum 
of  civilization  to  enjoy  recreation,  and  now,  after 
their  noonday  meal,  they  sat  on  a  moss-covered 
log,  hand  in  hand,  and  admiringly  gazed  on  the 
placid  water,  talking  of  their  hopes  and  pros- 
pects. 

Lynn  Canal  is  not  always  calm,  but  often  its  sur- 
face is  disturbed  by  sudden  squalls;  and  running  tides 
make  it  dangerous  to  those  in  small  canoes  at  such 
times.  As  the  evening's  twilight  stealthily  absorbed 
the  day,  little  birds  twittered  in  the  trees,  and  occa- 
sionally a  lone  raven  flew  past,  or  alighted  for  a  mo- 
ment on  a  near-by  hemlock,  and  there  mockingly  re- 
peated his  doleful  message.  Who  knows  but  that 
the  raven's  lone,  sepulchral  "  caw "  grated  with 
ominous  sound  on  the  nerves  of  that  delicately  re- 
fined woman? 

There  was  being  prepared  an  Indian  marriage 
feast,  "  potlach"  and  carnival,  only  a  few  miles  away. 


116       Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

where  wild-eyed,  coarse-haired  and  uncouth  savages 
expected  to  Indulge  In  fantastic  orgies  and  hilarious 
revelry.  They  were  to  be  stimulated  by  potations 
of  "  hooch,"  a  liquor  obtained  by  the  crude  fermenta- 
tion of  molasses,  farinacious  substances  and  fruit. 
Three  Indians  had  been  dispatched  to  the  Mission  to 
procure  presents  for  the  bride's  parents  and  the 
*'  potlatch  "  had  been  delayed  until  their  return. 

During  the  night  a  storm  arose  and  the  returning 
Indians  were  drowned  evidently  near  the  point  where 
the  white  caps  lashed  the  beach  by  the  summer  camp 
of  the  Hortons.  The  squall  calmed  down  when  the 
sun  arose  the  next  morning,  and  the  day  promised 
to  be  another  happy  one  for  the  campers.  Save  for 
the  lonely  call  of  that  dark-plumed  messenger,  the 
raven,  there  was  no  indication  that  the  sun's  rays 
would  witness  a  bloody  tragedy — a  horrible  murder 
committed  by  fiends  incarnate. 

When  the  three  Indians  failed  to  return  from  the 
Mission,  there  was  great  uneasiness  among  the  tribe, 
and  one  Indian  with  a  murderous  heart  swore  by  the 
Great  Spirit  that  he  would  go  in  search  of  his  rela- 
tives, who  had  been  sent  out  the  night  before.  If 
accident  had  befallen  them,  dire  vengeance  would  be 
meted  out  by  his  own  hands. 

He  paddled  his  canoe  along  the  shore  until  he  ar- 
rived at  the  camp  of  the  white  people.  There  he 
found  a  paddle  belonging  to  his  relatives,  which  had 
floated  up  to  the  beach,  and  he  demanded  of  the 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska        117 

white  man  an  explanation  of  how  it  happened  to  be 
so  near  his  tent.  Receiving  an  evasive  answer  the 
Indian  returned  to  his  teepee  swearing  vengeance. 

There  he  commanded  others  to  accompany  him  to 
the  camp  of  the  white  people,  where  he  promised  to 
show  them  that  the  "  white  dogs  "  had  murdered 
his  relatives.  This  brutal  savage  already  glorified 
in  the  distinction  of  being  a  murderer,  and  had 
shown  a  disposition  to  add  other  blood  stains  to  his 
record.  His  capriciousness  and  unreliability  had  pro- 
claimed him  to  be  an  individual  feared  even  by  his 
own  tribe.  Mandatorily  he  bade  them  row  the  boat, 
while  he  sat  in  the  stern,  and  with  a  dark  scowling 
countenance  vainly  cast  his  murderous  eye  over  the 
water  for  some  signs  of  the  lost  ones.  There  was 
no  word  spoken  by  the  paddlers,  as  the  saturnine 
pilot  might  construe  anything  said  as  a  reflection  on 
his  purpose.  When  they  approached  the  shore  where 
the  happy  people  were  camped,  this  brute  commenced 
to  curse  the  whole  white  race. 

The  white  man  came  out  and  sat  on  a  log  where 
he  and  his  loving  wife  had  sat  the  evening  before, 
and  watched  the  Indians  make  the  landing,  little 
realizing  the  condition  of  their  deluded  brains.  The 
leader  jumped  ashore,  and  picking  up  the  paddle, 
exclaimed: 

"  This  is  the  paddle  that  belonged  to  my  rela- 
tives! The  whites  have  murdered  them!  White 
dogs!    White  devils!  " 


118        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

He  then  raised  his  gun  and  fired,  and  the  white 
man  fell  dead  beside  the  log.  As  his  wife  ran  out 
of  the  tent  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  she,  too,  re- 
ceived a  deadly  missile.  She  fell,  but  with  that 
strange  maternal  instinct  to  cling  to  life,  she  at- 
tempted to  rise.  Then  the  murderer  commanded  a 
boy  to  run  and  cut  her  throat.  The  boy  hesitated, 
but  when  the  gun  was  pointed  at  him,  he  ran  to  that 
frail  body,  caught  her  hair,  as  she  vainly  struggled  to 
arise,  and  as  she  screamed,  "O  Lord!  O  Lord!" 
he  did  as  he  was  bidden.  The  moss  and  leaves  were 
crimson  with  her  life-blood. 

The  others  approached  and  stood  still,  speechless 
with  the  horror  of  the  crime,  while  the  enormity  of  It 
all  slowly  penetrated  the  thick  skull  of  the  villain. 
The  lonely  raven  flew  overhead  and,  alighting  on  a 
hemlock,  repeated,  "  O  Lord!     O  Lord!  " 

The  murderer  looked  in  startled  astonishment,  then 
raised  his  gun  to  fire,  but  the  dark-winged  messenger 
repeated  "O  Lord!  O  Lord!"  and  flew  away. 
One  of  the  others  intimated  that  the  raven  should  be 
treated  as  a  sacred  bird,  but  the  villain  replied: 

"  He  too  much  talk,  talk,  talk.  Heap  all-time 
talk!" 

The  Indians  returned  to  their  village,  and  while 
the  account  of  that  terrible  crime  was  whispered 
among  them,  great  care  was  taken  that  it  should  not 
reach  the  ears  of  the  whites.  Almost  every  day  the 
murderous  Indian  could  be  seen  walking  along  the 


Trailing   and   Camping  in  Alaska       119 

beach  and  occasionally  showing  his  antipathy  towards 
the  ravens  by  firing  at  some  one  of  those  dark-coated 
messengers. 

He  spent  the  evenings  listening  to  the  teachings  of 
a  few  Salvationists  who  had  invaded  the  Indian 
camp.  They  earnestly  taught  that  Jesus  would  for- 
give and  save,  and  it  acted  as  a  healing  balm  to  his 
bleeding  conscience. 

"  Does  Jesus  know  all?  "  he  asked. 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply,  "  confess  and  be  forgiven; 
He  will  save  you." 

His  bushy  head  shook  with  emotion  as  he  walked 
forward  and  said: 

"  I  will  confess.  He  will  save  me !  He  will  pro- 
tect me!  I  killed  a  white  man  and  a  woman,  and 
their  bodies  now  lie  near  the  beach  of  the  canal,  be- 
neath a  blanket !  Yes,  I  killed  them,  and  now  I  am 
saved!  " 

The  confession  was  a  surprise  to  those  who  heard 
it.  Officers  were  sent  for,  and  soon  the  actors  in  that 
awful  tragedy  were  on  their  way  to  the  white  man's 
justice.  The  prime  mover  of  the  crime  was  tried 
and  sentenced.  When  asked  why  judgment  should 
not  be  enacted,  he  stood  motionless.  A  raven  flew 
overhead,  and  his  call  startled  him  when  he  stepped 
forward  and  said: 

"Yes,  I  made  a  mistake!  My  people  were 
drowned  and  not  killed  by  the  white  people,  and  I 
am  willing  to  shed  my  blood  because  of  what  I  did. 


120       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

But,  white  man,  you  lie !     You  say  Jesus  save  me  I 
You  lie  I" 

The  great  ocean  steamers  plow  the  waters  of 
Lynn  Canal,  their  passengers  lounging  on  the  rail- 
ings and  gazing  at  the  gravelly  beach  and  the  wooded 
shore,  where  once  there  was  a  happy  summer  camp, 
and  where,  the  Indians  assert,  a  lone,  dark  glistening 
raven  often  alights  in  the  drooping  boughs  of  a 
hemlock,  and  mournfully  repeats,  "  O  Lord  I  O 
Lord!" 


CHAPTER    IX 

Secretary  Seward  once  was  asked  what  he  considered  the 
most  important  act  of  his  public  career,  and  he  replied: 
"  The  purchase  of  Alaska;  but  it  will  take  the  people  a 
generation  to  find  it  out." 

I  BOARDED  the  Steamer  Cottage  City,  leaving  Skag- 
way,  and  landed  in  the  historical  town  of  Sitka  on 
February  20,  1899.  Our  route  was  one  of  those 
aquatic  dreams — smooth  passageways  bordered  with 
rocky  shores  and  forests,  so  characteristic  of  those  in- 
land waters  of  America's  wonderland.  There  was 
one  exception  to  this,  however,  and  that  was  the 
passage  of  Cross  Sound,  where  the  open  sea  rolls  in, 
and  where  boats,  Sitka  bound,  wallow  in  the  troughs 
of  the  waves  for  a  few  minutes. 

A  young  man  who  was  on  board  remarked  that 
he  had  come  all  the  way  from  Seattle,  and  had  not 
been  seasick.  In  reality  he  had  not  been  to  sea, 
but  had  traveled  on  one  of  the  longest  stretches  of 
calm  salt  water  on  the  globe,  and  did  not  know  it. 
He  thought  he  had  been  on  the  ocean  and  was  brag- 
ging about  it. 

The  steward  ordered  the  waiters  to  put  nothing  on 
the  tables  until  after  we  had  crossed  the  sound,  as 
we  were  nearing  it,  and  from  its  rough  appearance 

121 


122        Trailing   mid   Camping   in   Alaslai 


there  must  be  a  storm  outside.  This  young  man  paid 
no  attention  to  that,  for  why  should  he?  Had  he 
not  been  to  sea?  I  moved  over  to  a  cushioned  seat 
which  was  bolted  to  the  mast,  directly  opposite  my 
seafaring  companion.  This  was  no  more  than  ac- 
complished when  such  things  as  plates,  knives  and 
forks,  which  were  already  on  the  table,  went  flying 
across  the  room  and  music  sheets  from  off  the  piano 
followed  in  close  pursuit.  The  loose  chairs,  includ- 
ing the  one  occupied  by  the  self-assumed  "  sea-salt," 
went  tumbling  also.  The  young  man  performed  an 
acrobatic  feat  in  the  air  and  dashing  over  towards 
me,  stuck  a  finger  familiarly  in  one  of  my  eyes,  be- 
coming inextricably  mixed  up  with  his  chair  on  its 
return  trip.  With  my  one  eye  I  saw  him  lying 
against  the  wall,  looking  up  between  the  chair  rungs 
and  regarding  me  with  an  expression  of  wild  wonder, 
as  if  I  had  been  hypnotizing  him  to  perform  in  such 
a  ridiculous  manner. 

It  appeared  to  dawn  upon  him  gradually  that  there 
was  something  about  this  seafaring  business,  and  also 
about  his  stomach,  that  he  did  not  understand.  He 
disengaged  himself  from  the  chair,  and  left  it  to  con- 
tinue its  gyrations,  while  he  crawled  on  all  fours  to 
his  stateroom.  Fortunately  it  was  near  by,  for  he 
remarked  afterwards  that  he  arrived  there  just  in  the 
nick  of  time. 

The  insertion  of  a  bit  of  history  may  make  the 
visit  to  the  old  town  of  Sitka  more  interesting.  From 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        123 

the  historians  we  learn  that  the  country  now  known  as 
Alaska  was  discovered  on  July  5,  1741,  by  one  of 
iVitus  Behring's  ship  captains  named  Chirikof.  Ber- 
ing or  Behring  was  a  Dane  in  the  employ  of  the 
^Russians,  and  died  December  8th,  of  the  same  year. 

Of  course,  it  is  probable  that  these  shores  had  been 
trodden  by  white  men  before  that  time,  but  not  In  an 
official  capacity.  Credit  is  not  always  given  to  the 
real  discoverers  for  their  work.  The  Kit  Carsons 
and  not  the  Fremonts  are  the  real  pathfinders.  Re- 
cently we  have  had  some  explorers  in  Alaska  who 
possibly  may  discover  New  York  or  Chicago  one  of 
these  days. 

Forty  years  after  Bering  discovered  Alaska,  a 
decree  was  issued  by  the  Russian  Government  which 
gave  a  company  the  exclusive  privilege  to  trade  and 
hunt  in  its  new  possessions.  It  also  advanced  two 
hundred  thousand  rubles  from  the  public  treasury,  to 
be  paid  in  twenty  annual  installments,  without  in- 
terest. It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  stockholders  of 
the  Company  were  closely  connected  with  the  Royal 
Household.  This  Company  also  bound  itself  to  sup- 
port a  Greek  Catholic  Church  wherever  an  oppor- 
tunity to  Christianize  the  natives  might  occur. 

Baranoff  was  appointed  manager  of  that  Com- 
pany in  1790.  He  was  noted  for  his  drunkenness, 
lewdness  and  lying,  although  in  his  report  of  his 
fight  with  the  natives  at  Nutchek,  he  said:  "As  for 
myself,  the  Lord  has  protected  me."     He  was  a 


124        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

model  of  devotion,  if  carrying  religion  into  business 
is  holiness;  for  he  caught  his  fur-bearing  animals, 
fish  and  seals  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  then,  very 
possibly,  he  would  indulge  in  the  worst  profanity  and 
go  on  a  drunken  debauch. 

Baranoff  landed  on  that  island,  about  six  miles 
north  of  the  present  town  of  Sitka,  on  May  25, 
1799.  He  built  a  post  and  left  for  Kadiak  during 
the  autumn  of  1800.  That  post  was  destroyed  and 
its  occupants  massacred  by  an  attacking  party  of 
about  one  thousand  Indians,  in  June,  1802.  Only 
three  Russians  escaped,  and  after  making  a  hazard- 
ous journey  along  the  several  hundreds  of  miles  of 
sea-coast,  reported  the  disaster  to  Baranoff. 

In  1804,  Baranoff,  with  one  hundred  and  twenty 
Russians,  followed  by  eight  hundred  Aleuts  in  their 
bidarkies,  or  skin  canoes,  returned  to  make  war  on 
the  Kolosh  tribes,  and  to  reassert  their  claim  to  Sitka. 
The  Russians  were  repulsed  in  a  pitched  battle  near 
the  mouth  of  Indian  Creek,  with  a  loss  of  twenty-six 
men,  and  Baranoff  was  wounded,  while  the  Lord 
apparently  protected  the  Indians.  They  were  com- 
pelled to  do  the  right  thing  by  holding  a  conference 
with  the  Indians,  who  courteously  allowed  them  to 
stake  off  a  limited  area  of  land  where  afterwards  they 
built  up  the  town  of  New  Archangel,  or  Sitka. 

Here  they  forged  iron,  cast  church  bells,  and  built 
ships  that  sailed  as  far  south  as  Mexico.  They  traded 
with  the  California  Indians,  and  established  there  a 


Trailing   and   "Camping   in   Alaska        125 


colony  of  farmers  on  a  river  that  was  afterwards 
named  Russian  River.  Baranoff  petitioned  to  be  re- 
lieved, but  his  request  was  not  granted  until  1818. 
He  started  home,  but  died  on  the  way  at  the  age  of 
seventy-two  years.  He  had  spent  twenty-eight  years 
as  a  tyrannical  ruler  among  priests,  Indians  and 
convicts.  During  that  time  he  had  cleared  six  mil- 
lions of  dollars  for  his  Company,  and  meanwhile 
Napoleon  had  been  attempting  to  overthrow  the  life 
of  his  government  in  another  hemisphere. 

Poor  Sitka !  It  has  struggled  for  a  hundred  years 
simply  to  hold  its  own,  and  not  a  very  sightly  place 
for  a  town  at  that.  It  was  attacked  by  Indians  as 
late  as  1856.  After  a  hot  battle  for  two  hours  the 
natives  were  repulsed;  they  left  one  hundred  of  their 
dead  around  those  old  block-houses,  up  there  on  the 

hill. 

Sitka  has  a  thrilling  history  of  mingled  romance, 
worship  and  feasts;  crime,  war  and  murder;  and  it 
has  survived  different  forms  of  ownership,  from  the 
domination  of  whiskey  to  "  hoochenoo." 

Slowly  we  approached  Sitka,  where  the  Indian 
town  adjoins  it  on  our  left.  Numerous  rocky  islets 
were  between  us  and  the  wide  ocean.  We  landed  at 
a  wharf  where  a  uniformed  sentry  paced  back  and 
forth,  but  he  does  that  only  on  steamer  days.  We 
passed  through  a  low  shed  of  a  warehouse,  where 
about  twenty  squaws  sat  with  their  backs  against  a 
wall,  having  numerous  articles  of  their  handiwork, 


126        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

such  as  moccasins  and  buckskin  purses,  spread  out 
for  sale  In  front  of  them. 

We  turned  to  the  right  and  stood  on  a  rocky  prom- 
inence where  once  was  Baranoff  Castle.  It  was  there 
that  the  formal  transfer  of  Alaska  from  one  foreign 
power  to  another  was  made  on  October  i8,  1867, 
by  the  lowering  of  the  Russian  flag,  and  the  hoisting 
of  that  of  the  United  States. 

An  Indian  who  was  present  at  the  time  remarked: 

"  We  gave  the  Russians  the  privilege  to  live 
among  us,  but  not  the  right  to  sell  us  and  our  whole 
country  to  another  power." 

Yes,  there  once  stood  the  Baranoff  Castle  and  It 
was  there  that  the  Russian  ruler  displayed  his  fits  of 
good  feeling  by  giving  suppers — feasts  they  were — 
where  the  flow  of  wine  and  stronger  drinks  resulted 
In  drunken  orgies  and  the  wildest  revelry.  It  was 
there  also  that  he  issued  edicts  which  sent  from  his 
presence  oflicial  dignitaries  retiring  like  menials. 

After  Baranoff's  career  had  ended,  the  impression 
which  the  lonely  mansion  always  gave  to  those  who 
were  familiar  with  its  history  was  that  its  dark  and 
dismal  halls  were  frequented  with  visitations  from 
the  dead.  Old  women,  who  once  had  been  the  girl 
guests  at  the  castle's  receptions,  declared  they  saw 
ghostly  apparitions  floating  around  the  place,  and 
that  they  believed  It  was  visited  frequently  by  the 
spirit  of  the  one  beloved  daughter  of  Baranoff. 

This  harbor  of  ghosts,  reminiscent  of  wild  trage- 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        127 

dies  and  of  scarcely  less  savage  scenes  of  dissipation, 
was  doomed  to  disappear,  for  one  dark  night  it 
passed  away  in  a  lurid  glare  of  fiery  destruction. 

An  era  of  military  control  followed  the  transfer, 
which  was  accompanied  by  drunken  debauchery. 
The  soldiers  exerted  a  demoralizing  influence  over 
the  natives  of  Sitka  and  even  murdered  some  of 
them.  The  worst  curse  that  can  happen  to  a  coun- 
try is  that  it  be  subjected  to  military  rule.  Human 
beings  of  all  mixtures  are  more  peaceable  in  the  en- 
joyment of  individual  prosperity,  even  without  the 
mandate  of  written  law,  than  when  placed  under  an 
arbitrary  military  autocrat  who  has  the  power  to 
order  his  automata  to  murder,  whether  for  right  or 
wrong.  Military  rule  is  all  right  in  war,  but  it  is  an 
enemy  to  peace  and  good  citizenship.  The  major- 
ity of  people  are  good  and  just,  therefore  let  the 
majority  rule,  and  you  will  have  law,  pure  and 
simple. 

I  attended  a  church  in  Sitka  where  the  minister 
prayed  for  his  sect  and  all  the  public  officials  of  the 
United  States,  and  I  felt  slighted.  On  my  return 
to  the  boarding-house,  I  witnessed  a  fight  between 
a  raven  and  three  chickens  over  the  possession  of  a 
bone.  The  raven  whipped  the  chickens,  then  a  pup 
butted  in,  but  a  hog — like  monopolists  the  world 
over — finally  took  possession  of  the  prize. 

Ravens  are  the  city's  scavengers  and  are  very 
tame.     During  my  stay  In  Sitka  some  boys  proved 


128        TrailiUff    arid    Camping   in    jllasl-a 

that  a  raven  could  count  up  to  seven.  There  was  an 
old  unoccupied  house  where  the  ravens  were  accus- 
tomed to  alight  and  make  remarks  about  people  as 
they  passed,  but  they  would  not  alight  on  the  roof  if 
they  knew  a  person  was  in  the  house.  Five  boys  en- 
tered the  house  and  came  out,  one  at  a  time,  the  last 
one  lingering  for  half  an  hour,  but  the  ravens  refused 
to  return  until  he  had  come  out;  whereupon  they  im- 
mediately took  possession  of  the  roof  and  bragged 
about  their  cunning.  Six  boys  tried  the  same  experi- 
ment with  like  result,  and  so  did  seven,  but  when 
eight  entered  and  seven  came  out,  the  ravens  became 
mixed  in  the  count.  The  boys  could  fool  them,  after 
that,  If  they  could  assemble  a  crowd  of  more  than 
seven.  I  had  often  wondered  how  Poe's  raven  could 
say  "  nevermore,"  but  I  found  that  an  Alaska  raven 
can  say  words  that  are  not  even  in  the  dictionary. 
He  has  the  vocabulary  of  a  common  scold,  and  the 
inqulsitlveness  of  a  village  gossip. 

I  was  persuaded  by  an  enemy  in  the  disguise  of  a 
friend,  to  take  a  Russian  bath  as  administered  in 
Sitka.  If  you  are  convinced  that  your  sins  have 
found  you  out,  and  are  sufficiently  desperate  to  risk 
the  punishment,  take  this  advice :  Leave  your  hope 
with  your  clothes  in  the  little  hell  adjoining.  When 
you  enter  that  place  of  torment,  you  realize  that  the 
breathing  element  is  pure  steam,  caused  by  hot  rock 
placed  in  a  barrel  of  water.  You  observe  next  that 
water  is  running  from  every  part  of  your  body,  and 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        129 

feebly  you  grope  in  that  vaporous  atmosphere  to  a 
bunk,  hayrack  or  guillotine,  where  you  proceed  to 
lay  yourself  out  in  as  becoming  an  attitude  as  pos- 
sible, to  await  the  end  that  you  feel  has  overtaken 
you.  As  you  observe  two  rawhide  strings  which 
once  served  you  as  legs,  you  begin  to  make  a  mental 
calculation  of  how  long  it  will  require  for  you  to 
shrink  up  so  that  you  can  roll  off  that  place  of  tor- 
ture and  drop  through  a  crack  in  the  floor;  or,  if 
you  should  remain,  how  soon  you  will  be  able  to 
float  away,  as  a  ghosdy  apparition. 

This  thought  may  arouse  you  to  make  a  last  des- 
perate effort,  and  in  the  struggle  you  may  float  to  a 
barrel  of  cold  water,  where  you  pour  a  bucketful  on 
what  is  left  of  your  person,  and  then  escape  into  the 
ante-room.  There,  when  drying  yourself,  you  will 
realize  the  need  of  a  magnifying  glass  with  which  to 
make  an  inspection  of  what  is  left  of  your  anatomy. 

After  I  had  indulged  in  this  bath,  my  expression 
must  have  exposed  my  reflections,  for  they  asked  me, 
at  the  boarding-house,  if  I  had  not  taken  a  Russian 
bath.  I  then  proceeded  to  take  on  another  load  of 
sins  by  declaring  it  was  simply  delightful  and  by  ad- 
vising my  interrogator  to  try  it.  I  generally  bathe 
in  the  ocean  or  the  river  in  the  springtime  of  the 
year,  and  once  took  a  foot-bath  in  Copper  River  that 
extended  several  feet  above  my  head,  but  one  Rus- 
sian bath  is  sufficient  for  a  lifetime. 

I  spent  three  weeks  in  getting  tired  of  Sitka  seen- 


130       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

ery,  of  tumbled-down  log  structures,  blockhouses  of 
untold  history,  and  the  old  graveyard  on  the  hill 
where  are  headboards  on  which  are  inscribed  death- 
dates  that  have  been  dimmed  by  more  than  a  hundred 
winters. 

In  Baranoff's  historical  works  (see  Vol.  33,  page 
705),  he  says  of  the  old  church  at  Sitka:  "The  Sitka 
Cathedral  contains  altars,  which  were  separated 
from  the  body  of  the  church  by  a  partition, 
the  doors  of  which  are  gilt,  and  the  pilasters  mounted 
with  gold  capitals.  There  were  eight  silver  candle- 
sticks, more  than  eight  feet  in  length,  and  a  silver 
chandelier  hanging  from  the  center  of  the  dome 
which  was  supported  by  a  number  of  columns  of  the 
Byzantine  order.  On  the  altar  was  a  miniature  tomb 
of  the  Saviour  in  gold  and  silver.  The  vestments 
and  implements  were  also  rich  in  gold  and  jewels. 
The  books  were  bound  in  gold  and  crimson  velvet, 
and  adorned  with  miniatures  of  the  evangelists  set 
in  diamonds.  The  communion  was  a  cup  of  gold 
similarly  embellished;  the  miter  was  covered  with 
pearls,  rubies,  emeralds  and  diamonds." 

It  does  not  astonish  me  that  some  United  States 
soldiers,  in  1869,  were  drummed  out  of  the  service 
for  attempting  to  rob  that  church.  I  had  long  de- 
sired to  inspect  the  interior,  and  the  opportunity  now 
was  presented.  I  entered  the  church  to  see  it,  as  well 
as  to  pay  my  respects  to  the  dead.  A  funeral  was  be- 
ing conducted  there  according  to  the  orthodox  cere- 


Trailing  and  Vamping  in  Alaska       13T 

monies  of  the  Greek  Church.  The  blue-domed 
building  with  its  minaret  surmounted  by  a  triple 
barred  cross  gave  it  a  mosque-like  appearance.  As 
there  were  no  seats,  everybody  knelt  and  listened  to 
the  solemn  chant  led  by  a  long-bearded,  long-haired 
and  long-robed  Muscovite  priest,  while  the  choir  of 
little  boys  creditably  rendered  their  part. 

The  priest  constantly  swung  his  censer.  It  was  a 
kind  of  covered  saucer  that  hung  from  his  arm,  and 
emitted  a  cloudlet  of  smoke.  It  could  smoke  but 
you  could  not,  unless  you  were  willing  to  be  consigned 
to  a  place  where  smoking  is  said  to  be  a  continuous 
performance.  One  man  attempted  to  smoke  a  ciga- 
rette in  that  church,  but  was  at  once  escorted  to  the 
door  by  an  observant  worshiper.  Arriving  outside, 
however,  the  stern  censor  of  decorum  and  morality 
asked  the  offender  if  he  possessed  another  cigarette 
that  he  could  spare. 

I  came  away  from  that  funeral  with  the  consoling 
thought  that  if  a  good  man  took  the  Copper  River 
route,  he  would,  even  through  that  side  entrance,  find 
eternal  rest.  Of  course  many  would  be  jealous,  be- 
cause he  did  not  follow  their  particular  trail,  but  he 
would  be  there  anyway. 

There  was  one  beautiful  painting  of  the  Madonna 
which  has  left  an  indelible  impression.  I  failed  to 
find  any  one  who  knew  when  it  had  been  painted,  as 
they  said  it  had  been  done  by  some  old  Greek  master, 
hundreds  of  years  ago,  but  that  there  was  no  positive 


132        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 


record  of  it  known.  I  was  also  informed  that  a  noted 
American  heiress  had  offered  $50,000  for  it,  and  her 
offer  had  been  refused;  also  that  $100,000  had 
been  offered  as  security  for  its  safe  return,  if  the 
church  would  allow  it  to  be  placed  on  exhibition  at  the 
Chicago  Fair,  but  that,  too,  had  been  refused. 

No  artist  living  at  the  present  day  could  have 
painted  a  more  beautiful  and  harmonious  expression 
of  countenance.  That  alone,  of  all  the  sights  of 
Sitka,  was  to  me  the  most  impressive,  and,  in  leav- 
ing, the  one  I  wished  ever  to  retain. 


CHAPTER   X 

One  Coast  Siwash  tribe's  genealogy  goes  back  to  the 
raven,  and  those  birds  have  gone  into  mourning  ever  since 
the  hatching  of  that  particular  nest  of  eggs. 

There  are  Indians  in  Alaska  who  trace  their 
origin  to  the  beaver,  and  most  of  those  tribes  make 
totem  poles  by  cutting  large  Images  of  their  supposed 
ancestors  In  trees.  The  bark  Is  peeled  from  the  tree, 
and  then  they  carve  upon  it  unsightly  pictures  of  their 
assumed  ancestors,  one  above  another,  until  they  use 
up  about  all  of  their  tree  and  exhaust  their  fund  of 
fantastic  delusions.  These  poles  are  erected  in  front 
of  their  dwellings,  so  that  all  may  read  their  illus- 
trated book  of  genealogy.  During  my  stay  at  Sitka, 
one  family  entered  into  a  dispute  with  another  over 
the  heritage  of  a  totem  pole,  and  Judge  Tuttle  was 
appealed  to  for  a  decision.  It  is  to  the  credit  of  the 
Indians  of  the  interior  of  Alaska,  that  they  have  no 
totem  poles,  and  laugh  at  the  ridiculous  superstition 
of  the  "  Fish-eaters,"  as  they  call  them. 

Occasionally  these  poles  are  worth  more  than  a 
passing  notice,  for  sometimes  they  disclose  tribal  his- 
tory. The  chief  of  the  Bear  tribe  became  chief  by  a 
succession  of  personal  efforts  and  his  merit,  and  did 
not  inherit  his  position  from  an  ancestry  of  chiefs. 

133 


134        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

Like  self-made  men  of  all  colors,  he  was  justly  proud 
of  the  result.  In  erecting  his  totem  pole,  he  carved 
on  it  the  tracks  of  a  bear  ascending  to  the  top,  and 
on  the  throne  he  carved  the  image  of  a  bear,  repre- 
senting Chief  Bear,  of  the  Bear  tribe.  However,  he 
should  have  placed  a  notice  thereon,  saying,  "  This 
is  a  bear!  "  I  have  heard  other  legends  relating  to 
that  same  pole,  for  almost  every  Indian  one  meets  in 
Alaska  is  carrying  a  liberal  supply  of  legends  around 
in  his  head. 

There  are  many  different  kinds  of  pride  existing 
among  the  human  races.  I  have  known  educated 
white  persons  who  took  a  pride  in  writing  so  that  no 
one  else  could  read  it.  They  scratched  in  their  names 
as  if  they  desired  to  conceal  their  identity  from  any 
one  who  should  attempt  to  decipher  the  chirog- 
raphy. 

I  have  known  a  man  to  be  proud  of  the  fact  that 
he  owned  a  bulldog  and  could  lead  him  around  by  a 
string;  this  appeared  to  give  him  a  feeling  of  supe- 
riority over  others  who  had  no  bulldogs,  as  if  he 
thought  they  could  not  afford  such  a  luxury.  It  was 
a  very  appropriate  combination,  as  the  bulldog  added 
dignity  and  brains  to  his  owner. 

By  the  term  tribe,  as  used  in  relation  to  those  In- 
dians— and  to  most  other  Indians,  for  that  matter — 
is  meant  families  that  have  intermarried  until  great 
numbers  are  blood  relations.  There  are  but  two  dis- 
tinct classifications  of  the  Alaskan  Indians;  those  of 


Tutcui  Poles  at  WriUKjcll. 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        135 

the  interior,  and  the  fish-eating  Siwash  of  the  coast. 
It  is  doubtful  if  any  scientist  could  determine  the 
dividing  line  between  the  mythical  Esquimos  and 
their  southern  neighbors.  Certain  tribes  of  Indians 
are  short,  rotund  and  fleshy,  being  made  so  by  their 
blubber-eating  and  sedentary  habits.  It  is  plainly 
evident,  however,  that  all  the  Esquimo  Indians  are 
not  as  they  were  represented  in  the  old  school  geog- 
raphies. 

Captain  Roald  Amundsen,  in  the  report  of  his  trip 
through  the  Northwest  Passage,  and  of  the  Esqui- 
mos he  then  encountered,  said :  "  They  were  fine  men, 
these  Esquimos,  tall  and  strongly  built.  They  were, 
moreover,  slim,  and  as  I  said  before,  tall."  The 
time  has  arrived  when  we  must  refer  to  the  Esquimos 
as  Esquimo  Indians,  and  discontinue  the  deception 
that  they  are  a  separate  class  of  human  beings. 

I  remember  having  seen  a  sawmill  at  Sitka,  which 
was  run  by  Indians,  and  there  are  Indian  carpenters 
who  have  built  their  own  neat  cottages.  They  have 
many  symmetrically  hewn  canoes;  one  of  those  that 
I  examined  measured  eight  feet  in  beam  and  was 
forty-five  feet  long.  They  said  they  had  much  larger 
ones. 

In  company  with  a  friend  I  took  a  stroll  out  to 
Indian  Creek.  We  passed  a  church  where  we 
were  told  that  the  minister's  sentences  were  repeated 
by  an  interpreter.  We  passed  also  an  industrial 
school,  then  a  museum;  the   former  with  animate, 


186        TraiUnii;   and    Campinf^   in   Alaska 

and  the  latter  with  inanimate,  curiosities.  We  left 
the  town  and  walked  along  a  highway  that  had  hcen 
cut  before  our  fathers  were  born,  and  found  Indian 
Creek  to  be  a  beautiful  clear  stream,  with  a  suspen- 
sion foot-bridge  across  it. 

The  road  wound  back  from  here,  through  ever- 
green, hemlock,  spruce  and  cedar  trees,  overshadow- 
ing a  dense  undergrowth.  There  was  an  occasional 
cleared  spot  where  benches  were  placed  for  the  con- 
venience of  lovers,  poets  and  other  moony  mortals. 
It  is  an  idyllic  spot.  No  wonder  that  the  Sitka  pa- 
pers have  contained  numerous  marriage  notices  and 
original  poems.  Among  the  soul-stirring,  heart-rend- 
ing and  love-sighing  poems  that  the  emotional  na- 
tures of  Sitka  have  blasted  out,  one  ends  each  stanza 
with  the  euphonious  expression  thus: 
"  Let  her  go,  Gallagher  I  Let  her  go  I  " 
A  white  man  who  was  so  poetical  as  to  marry  a 
dusky  maiden  of  the  forest,  known  by  the  name  of 
Anna  Hootz,  was  evidently  in  a  poetical  mood  when 
his  squaw  eloped  with  a  pig-eyed  Chinaman.  A  few 
explanations  arc  necessary  for  the  reader  to  fully 
appreciate  his  poetical  effort.  He  should  understand 
that  the  Coast  Indians  grow  up  In  canoes,  and  con- 
sequently are  crooked  of  limb,  and  more  or  less 
crippled,  and  that  all  Indians,  like  Japs,  are  "  pigeon- 
toed";  also,  there  is  no  perfume  so  attractive  to  a 
squaw-man  as  the  scent  of  old  dried  salmon.  This 
poem  was  published  In  a  pamphlet,  entitled  "  Poems 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        137 


on  Alaska,   by  Alaskans."     Two  blocks  of  It   are 
submitted  as  samples  from  the  ledge: 

"  And  the  scent  of  the  salmon  lingers  yet 
In  the  place  where  she  used  to  be, 
And  while  life  lasts  I  shall  never  forget 
How  sweet  its  perfume  to  me. 
And  the  blear-eyed  children  on  her  knee, 
With    legs   adapted   to  crooked   boots, — 
The   patentee  sign  of  Anna   Hootz. 

And  now  I  sit  by  the  smoky  fire 

Through  the  day   and   twilight's  dim, 

Cherishing  only  a  wild  desire 

To  build   an   elaborate   funeral   pyre 

And    get   one   chance    at   Jim; 

I'd  mangle  and  tear  him  limb  from  limb 

And  boil  him  well   in  a  copper  pot 

In  a  place  where  Anna  Hootz  is  not." 

We  returned  to  town  over  that  picturesque  high- 
way, and,  as  many  have  done  before,  gazed  long  to 
the  northward  upon  the  Interesting  scene  of  Mt. 
Edgecomb,  an  extinct  volcano  resembling  a  carbuncle 
that  had  lost  Its  heart. 


CHAPTER    XI 

Nature  sometimes  gives  us  the  impression  tliat  she  is  not 
always  just.  A  scientist  found  a  bug  on  the  Malispina 
glacier  upon  uhich  he  inflicted  the  name  of  Alalanenchy- 
tracus  Solifigus,  and  the  bug  died,  but  the  scientist  lived/ 

As  it  was  nearing  the  time  for  explorations  in  the 
Alaskan  Range,  I  left  Sitka,  the  place  of  seven  feet 
of  annual  rainfall,  and  government  officials  who 
have  been  too  prominent  in  politics  at  some  time  or 
another. 

It  was  during  this  summer  that  E.  H.  Harriman 
chartered  a  steamer  and,  accompanied  by  a  select 
number  of  scientists,  spent  some  time  in  Yakutat 
Bay  and  various  other  places  along  the  Alaska  Coast. 
It  is  probable  that  it  was  the  greatest  coterie  of  wise- 
acres that  ever  visited  the  North,  and  it  is  vastly  to 
their  credit  that  they  refrained  from  renaming  and 
rediscovering  everything  they  saw.  They  attempted, 
however,  to  change  an  arm  of  Yakutat  Bay,  known 
as  Disenchantment  Bay,  to  Russell  Fiord.  They  did 
not  see  all  of  the  glaciers  in  Alaska,  but  on  beholding 
a  few  of  them  they  inflicted  upon  them  the  college 
names  of  Harvard,  Yale,  Smith,  Bryn  Mawr,  Vassar, 
iVVellesley,  Wells  and  Amherst.  They  did  give  a  few 
glaciers  the  appropriate  and  original  names  of  Stalr- 

138 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        139 

way  and  Serpentine;  but  other  scientists  may  come 
along  and  change  them. 

Just  think  how  the  American  zoologists  have 
abused  the  poor  little  white-tailed  deer!  Bodheart, 
as  far  back  as  1785,  inflicted  on  it  the  name  of  Cervus 
virginianus.  Every  time  a  scientist  caught  one  of  the 
species  during  the  next  hundred  years,  evidently  he 
turned  it  loose  to  drag  another  name  after  it.  In 
1884  they  started  in  on  another  century  of  names  by 
calling  that  deer  Cariacus  virginianus;  in  1895,  Dor- 
celaphus  virginianus;  in  1897,  Dorcelaphus  amerl- 
canus;  in  1898,  Mazama  amerlcanus,  and  in  1902, 
Dama  virginiana.  Why  not  insert  White-tail-deer 
for  iana  and  say  Dama  Virgin  White-tail-deer? 

It  does  not  surprise  me  in  the  least  that  this  deer  is 
so  wild  and  timid.  Me  generally  runs  when  fright- 
ened, and  unlike  the  Blacktail  deer,  does  not  stop 
to  gaze  at  a  hunter,  but  when  last  seen  is  always  try- 
ing to  uphold  his  true  name  by  flying  his  white  flag. 
It  is  a  crime  against  Nature  for  scientists  to  twist  that 
deer's  tail  into  so  dangerously  unmanageable  names. 

When  we  left  Yakutat  our  boat  lowered  and  rose 
with  the  sea-swells  as  her  engines  drove  us  westward 
at  a  twelve-knot  gait.  We  looked  up  twenty  thou- 
sand feet  at  the  top  of  Mt.  St.  Elias,  and  also  saw 
the  great  Malispina  glacier  that  rested  at  its  base. 
This  glacier  was  discovered  by  Alejandro  Malis- 
pina, a  scientist,  who  accompanied  a  Spanish  expedi- 
tion along  that  coast  in  1791. 


140        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

We  crossed  in  front  of  the  Copper  River  delta, 
sixty-five  miles  in  width,  over  which  the  wintry  blasts 
are  hurled  from  the  interior.  This  river  was  first 
located  by  Caudra,  second  in  command  under  Artega. 

We  steamed  around  by  Nutchek  Bay,  where  on 
May  12,  1778,  Captain  Cook  cast  anchor  to  repair 
a  leakage  in  his  ship.  There  was  then  and  is  now  an 
Indian  village  at  that  place.  No  doubt  there  are  old 
wrinkled  natives  there  who  could  tell  their  grandchil- 
dren of  their  battle  with  the  whites,  whom  they  re- 
pulsed so  long  ago  when  Baranofif  was  the  White 
Chieftain. 

We  passed  Fidalgo  Bay,  named  after  Lieutenant 
Salvador  Fidalgo,  of  the  same  expedition  that  dis- 
covered Valdez  Bay  in  1790.  At  Valdez  we  found 
squalor  and  misery,  many  of  the  half-starved  pros- 
pectors being  afflicted  with  scurvy.  Charley  Brown 
had  condemned  a  government  mule,  and  it  had  been 
gladly  eaten  by  the  inhabitants.  A  whale  had  drifted 
in  to  shore,  and  a  portion  of  it  had  been  eaten. 
Many  had  come  over  the  glacier,  and  others  had 
lost  their  lives  in  the  attempt,  and  the  little  grave- 
yard had  been  enlarged.  Here  is  an  Incident  worthy 
of  detail: 

A  dog-team  galloped  up  and  stopped  in  front  of 
the  only  pretense  of  a  hotel  in  Valdez.  The  night 
was  dark,  as  the  northern  winter  nights  always  are, 
when  the  moon  is  not  shining.  The  dogs  immedi- 
ately lay  down,  almost  exhausted  from  their  long 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska        141 


trip,  and  the  two  men  soon  were  surrounded  by  in- 
quiring friends.     One  of  the  two  said: 

"What  do  you  think,  fellows?  We  passed  a 
woman,  just  this  side  of  Saw-Mill  Camp,  who  was 
pulhng  a  sled  on  which  was  her  sick  husband.  We 
remonstrated  against  the  undertaking  of  crossing  the 
glacier,  but  she  replied  that  they  might  as  well  die 
up  there  as  anywhere  else,  as  it  meant  certain  death 
to  stop.  Our  dogs  could  only  pull  our  oufit,  and 
there  wasn't  grub  enough  for  all,  so  we  were  com- 
pelled to  leave  them.  They  will  be  at  the  last  timber 
to-night  and  if  somebody  doesn't  go  to  their  rescue, 
they  will  be  dead  by  this  time  to-morrow." 
A  man  stepped  out  from  the  crowd  and  said: 
"  I'll  go  for  one  1  Now  who  else  has  a  good  dog- 
team  to  splice  in  with  mine?  " 

"I'm  your  huckleberry  1  "  announced  another. 
It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  before  they 
had  made  their  selection  of  dogs  and  were  ready  to 
start  on  that  hazardous  trip. 

"  We'll  be  on  the  first  bench  by  daylight,  and  have 
them  here  before  to-morrow's  midnight,"  said  one, 
as  he  straightened  out  the  team.  "  That  dog  Rex 
will  be  pulling  against  the  collar  when  we  return,  and 
Sport  will  get  us  back  if  he  barks  every  jump  for  the 
whole  of  that  sixty  miles !  " 

"Yea,  Boys!  Stand  in  there,  Leader!  Mush, 
mush  on,  mush!  "  and  with  a  yelp  the  dogs  galloped 
away,  as  if  aware  of  the  urgency  of  their  mission. 


142       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 


"Haw,  Leader  1"  was  heard,  as  they  turned  the 
corner,  and  then  they  were  gone. 

"  There  goes  the  best  dog-team  in  Alaska,  and 
driven  by  the  best  two  men  on  earth  I  "  exclaimed  a 
man  as  he  re-entered  the  house. 

The  trail  was  easily  followed,  and  soon  the  nine 
miles  of  level  bench  were  passed.  The  speed  slack- 
ened only  when  they  were  ascending  the  summit, 
which  they  reached  by  eleven  that  morning,  and  there 
it  was  seen  that  the  sharp  peaks  were  curling  fine 
snow  high  in  the  air. 

"They  are  beginning  to  smoke!"  remarked  one 
of  the  men. 

"  Yes,  and  we  must  get  back  here  before  night,  or 
It's  all  off !  "  replied  the  other. 

Down,  down  the  steep  descent  they  plunged,  and 
by  one  o'clock  they  were  off  the  glacier  and  skipping 
over  level  ground.  The  poor  woman  had  pulled  the 
sled  until  she  had  become  exhausted  and  had  sat 
down  beside  her  husband.  She  was  weeping  bitterly 
when  a  noise  startled  her,  and  listening,  she  plainly 
heard  the  yell  of  a  driver  and  the  barking  of  dogs. 
With  tears  dimming  her  eyes  she  discovered  them 
rapidly  approaching,  and  as  the  team  galloped  in  a 
circle  and  stopped  beside  her  with  the  dogs'  heads 
pointed  back  towards  the  glacier,  she  clapped  her 
hands  with  joy,  for  they  had  come  to  her  rescue! 

The  dogs  lay  down,  and  with  their  lolling  tongues 
lapped  the  snow,  while  the  drivers  ate  some  crack- 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska        143 


ers  and  jokingly  encouraged  the  sick  man  and  help- 
less woman.  She  was  bidden  to  seat  herself  com- 
fortably, while  they  fastened  the  two  sleds  together. 
Soon  they  were  bounding  away  at  such  a  rapid  rate 
of  speed,  that  the  woman  again  wept,  but  for  joy. 
When  they  recrossed  the  summit  the  whole  range  was 
*'  smoking  "  and  the  wind  was  sending  the  fine  snow 
along  the  crust.  It  whipped  their  faces  with  a  warn- 
ing of  what  was  coming;  but  the  driver  said: 
"  Twenty  miles  to  town  and  it  can  never  catch  us  I  " 
Townsmen  anxiously  waited  and  looked  up  the 
trail,  and  many  exclaimed,  "  They  can't  possibly  be 
here  before  midnight,"  but  they  were.  As  they 
rushed  up  to  the  crowd  with  a  yell,  and  a  glad  bark 
from  the  noble  dogs,  they  were  surrounded  by  eager, 
helping  hands.  The  dogs  acted  as  if  they  understood 
why  they  were  being  petted  so.  Again  the  woman 
wept  for  joy.  Yes,  they  were  saved — not  by  men  of 
good  intentions  only,  but  by  men  of  instant  action. 

The  rescued  are  now  living  at  Valdez.  The  snow 
disappeared,  the  scurvyites  recovered,  flowers 
bloomed,  birds  sang  and  the  nights  rapidly  disi- 
solved  into  continuous  daylight.  I  was  eager  to 
explore  where, 

"  Away  from  the  dwellings  of  care-worn  men, 
The  waters  are  sparkling  in  grove  and  glen." 

I  had  informed  a  military  officer  of  my  intention 
to  make  an  attempt  to  find  Captain  West's  placers. 


144        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

and  he  had  asked  me  to  accept  a  proposition  of  act- 
ing as  government  scout  which  I  accepted.  That 
would  take  me  right  into  the  mountains,  and  while 
looking  for  passes  through  them,  I  could  also  keep 
my  eye  out  for  the  location  of  the  West  discovery. 

Fortunately,  I  had  told  him  only  about  that  part 
of  the  story  West  had  told  his  men  regarding  its  lo- 
cation on  the  headwaters  of  the  Tanana,  and  had 
retained  my  own  opinion  about  the  gold  really  being 
on  the  headwaters  of  the  Chistochina. 

How  I  chafed  to  get  away,  but  could  not.  I  was 
retained  as  guide  on  the  trail,  while  others  were  sent 
towards  the  headwaters  of  the  Tanana.  Oscar  Rohn, 
the  geologist,  went  into  the  Tanana,  and  Cooper,  a 
former  friend  of  that  military  officer,  also  left  Cop- 
per Center  with  horses  he  had  wintered  inside;  he 
was  breaking  strings  to  get  on  to  the  headwaters  of 
the  Tanana.  There  I  was,  without  a  horse,  or  the 
possibility  of  getting  one,  and  compelled  to  play  a 
waiting  game  while  others  wore  themselves  out  nib- 
bling at  the  West  bait. 

True,  I  should  have  arranged  to  have  gone  in  on 
my  own  account,  and  over  the  snow  in  the  spring,  but 
it  was  now  too  late.  I  was  compelled  to  content  my- 
self with  blazing  the  trail  along  the  precipitous  walls 
of  Keystone  Canyon;  there  watching  the  silvery 
threads  of  water  falling  for  five  hundred  feet  or 
more,  and  spreading  their  spray  in  beautiful  rain- 
bows. 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        14.5 

Surely  no  route  exists  that  excels  in  grandeur  the 
scenery  between  Valdez  and  the  Yukon.  It  is  a  treat 
to  the  lover  of  sublimity,  to  hie  away  to  the  recesses 
of  those  coast  mountains,  on  a  warm,  sunny  day,  and 
drink  from  the  cool  streams  of  the  nectar  "  fit  for  the 
gods."  Precipices,  extending  upwards  to  dizzy  and 
astonishing  heights,  where  the  eaglet  is  taught  his 
first  lesson,  loom  up  before  one,  who  vainly  en- 
deavors to  comprehend  the  immensity  of  the  sur- 
roundings. One  cannot  realize  that  the  plainly  seen 
volcanic  smoke  from  Mt.  Wrangell  is  probably 
one  hundred  miles  away;  nor  that  the  waterfalls 
near  by,  that  pour  over  bluffs  with  a  continuous  roar, 
are  fed  by  melting  snows  and  glaciers,  thousands  of 
feet  above  and  miles  beyond.  This  Coast  Range  is 
one  vast  collection  of  waterfalls,  that  roar  you  to 
sleep,  then  awaken  you  to  make  you  feast  your  eyes 
on  their  spreading  spray.  Speechless  with  admira- 
tion you  stand  and  gaze  at  the  beautiful  and  varie- 
gated colors  of  their  rainbows. 


CHAPTER    XII 

An  Indian  said:  "Indian  shoot  black  bear,  hear  die;  In- 
dian  shoot  glacier  bear,  may-be-so  bear  die;  Indian  shoot 
grizzly  bear,  Indian  die." 

On  May  8,  I  camped  with  Amy,  Louvrous,  Finch, 
Fish,  Fitch,  and  odiers,  who  were  sledding  their  out- 
fits over  the  divide.  A  little  black  bear  came  right 
into  camp  and  I  missed  a  butt-of-an-ear  shot  at  no 
greater  distance  than  30  paces.  I  was  shooting  a 
Winchester  cartridge  with  smokeless  powder  and  a 
solid  bullet  from  a  Frontier  revolver,  and  was  con- 
fident of  being  able  to  hit  a  silver  dollar  at  that  dis- 
tance. As  the  shot  was  fired,  he  lowered  his  head, 
and  then  bounded  away  as  a  second  bullet  cut  the 
bark  of  a  tree  behind  him.  I  did  not  expect  forgive- 
ness from  those  men  for  that  careless  sort  of  shooting 
and  deserved  the  ridicule  received  for  it. 

One  whole  day  was  spent  in  crossing  the  divide,  as 
the  snow  was  soft  and  deep,  and  at  night  I  threw  my 
sleeping-bag  down  on  some  boughs  on  eight  feet  of 
snow,  among  the  trees  of  the  Tekeil  River  bottom. 
There  were  hundreds  of  ptarmigan  cackling  around 
camp  the  next  morning,  and  it  was  amusing  to  hear 
them  say,  "  O,  come  back!  Come  back!"  Soon  I 
had  killed  ten  of  them  and  we  spent  the  whole  of  that 

146 


Trailing   and   Camping  in  Alaska       147 


day  resting  and  eating  ptarmigan  stew.  I  explored 
to  the  source  of  that  river,  to  determine  If  It  were 
possible  to  construct  a  trail  through  by  way  of  Ton- 
slna  Lake.  While  up  there,  I  shot  a  mountain  goat 
that  was  wearing  a  very  heavy  coat  of  mohair.  Those 
goats  of  the  Coast  Range  are  very  large,  but  this 
one  was  so  emaciated  It  could  not  be  eaten;  and  be- 
cause of  their  poor  condition  I  refrained  from  shoot- 
ing others  on  this  trip.  The  old  Alaska  goats  keep 
right  In  the  fashion  of  their  civilized  brothers  by 
wearing  whiskers  on  their  chin. 

I  returned  to  Dutch  Flat  and  found  that  one  of 
the  Drase  brothers  had  killed  the  little  black  bear 
which  I  had  missed  a  few  days  before.  This  Dutch 
Flat  ends  in  the  upper  gorge  of  Keystone  Canyon, 
which  is  about  three  miles  from  end  to  end.  Lieu- 
tenant Brookfield,  Dr.  Lewis,  Mr.  Gardner,  Mr. 
Flemmlngs,  and  another  man  whose  name  is  now  for- 
gotten, attempted,  In  the  spring  of  1898,  to  float 
through  that  box  canyon  on  a  raft.  They  had 
climbed  over  the  mountain  and  had  descended  Into 
this  place.  They  were  tired  and  hungry,  and,  rather 
than  spend  a  day  or  two  in  climbing  back  to  get  out, 
they  decided  to  go  through  the  canyon  in  a  few 
minutes. 

At  that  time  this  canyon  never  had  been  explored 
to  their  knowledge,  and  for  all  they  knew,  they  might 
be  hurled  over  falls  that  were  anywhere  from  five  to 
five  hundred  feet  high ;  so  under  those  circumstances 


148        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

it  was  one  of  the  most  foolish  escapades  ever  under- 
taken by  men  of  sane  minds.  They  built  a  raft 
of  logs  and  willow  withes;  then  each  man  armed 
himself  with  a  pole,  and  as  they  shoved  the  raft  out 
In  the  mad  stream  they  waved  their  hats  at  nobody 
and  yelled,  "  Vive  Cuba  Libre!  "  Above  the  sound 
of  that  mad  rushing  water  and  those  madder  human 
adventurers,  the  mountain  echoed  Alaska's  greeting 
to  the  southern  isle. 

At  the  entrance  of  the  canyon,  the  water  piles  up 
against  a  perpendicular  wall,  then  turns  squarely 
to  the  left.  It  was  there  that  the  voyagers  were  in- 
troduced to  the  magnitude  of  their  undertaking.  The 
lieutenant  commanded:  "Present  poles!"  and  they 
did  so,  in  a  brave  but  futile  attempt  either  to  prevent 
the  raft,  with  thousands  of  tons  of  water  driving  be- 
hind, from  striking  the  rock,  or  to  push  aside  that 
five-hundred-foot  wall,  buttressed  with  a  mountain. 

They  and  the  w^l  met  squarely;  the  raft  dodged 
the  problem  of  the  irresistible  missile  meeting  the 
immovable  object,  and  continued  down  stream,  while 
five  men  were  held  out  in  the  air  on  the  ends  of  their 
poles  for  a  second.  Then  five  hats  were  to  be  seen 
floating  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  but  not  a  man 
was  visible.  Ten  more  seconds  and  the  men  were 
swimming  for  the  raft,  far  below  the  place  of  the 
first  disaster.  One  climbed  up  on  it,  just  as  It  was 
about  to  turn  turtle,  and  then  the  raft  was  on  top  of 
the  man.     Another  moment,  and  two  men  were  on 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        149 


the  raft,  but  the  others  were  attempting  to  climb  on, 
while  it  was  approaching  another  rock  wall.  The 
man  In  the  water  below  the  raft  had  his  chin  resting 
on  board  in  such  a  manner  that  when  the  raft  struck 
the  rock  he  would  be  decapitated. 

One  benevolent  fellow,  taking  in  the  situation,  did 
not  care  for  the  ghastly  scene  of  having  a  head  on 
board  without  a  body  attached  to  it,  and  thinking  it 
would  be  preferable  to  the  struggling  mortal  to 
drown  rather  than  to  have  his  head  chopped  off  with 
a  dull  raft,  he  reached  forth,  took  hold  of  the  man's 
hair  and,  shoving  him  beneath,  the  raft  glided  over. 
The  raft  struck  the  wall,  whirled  and  passed  on, 
while  a  nearly  drowned  man  was  attempting  to  climb 
on  to  the  rear  end.  Another  half-minute  and  instead 
of  a  raft  there  were  five  separate  logs  with  a  man 
clinging  to  each  one  of  them.  They  managed  to 
find  small  landings,  and  all  got  out  on  one  side,  ex- 
cept Gardner,  who  crawled  out  on  the  east  shore. 

There  were  several  small  ravines  cutting  down 
into  the  canyon,  and  up  those,  by  clinging  to  alder 
brush,  the  swimmers  could  climb  out  of  the  river,  so 
they  took  to  the  mountain's  sides.  The  remainder  of 
the  day  was  spent  in  clinging  to  rocky  steeps,  while 
the  enraged,  serpent-like  river  went  winding  and 
crawling  beneath.  Gardner,  who  came  out  of  the 
canyon  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  river,  swam  across 
that  night.  The  next  day  they  all  arrived  in  Valdez, 
hatless,   coatless   and  half   starved.    A   year  later, 


150        Trailing   and    Camping   in    ^ilaska 

"Tex"  and  Schelly  attempted  to  go  through  the 
same  canyon  on  a  raft,  but  with  similar  results. 

On  July  8  I  climbed  to  the  top  of  a  mountain, 
about  5000  feet  above  Dutch  Flat,  and  there  wit- 
nessed a  most  glorious  sunrise.  The  fog  came  roll- 
ing In  from  the  bay  and  ascended  the  canyons  until 
there  were  only  a  few  peaks  left  above  it,  like  Islands 
In  a  moving  sea.  To  those  In  camp,  far  below,  this 
was  a  dense  cloud  high  above  them ;  to  me,  It  was  an 
ocean,  probably  a  thousand  feet  below.  It  rolled  along 
and  met  a  similar  sea  of  fog  which  had  ascended  the 
Copper  River,  and  poured  through  Thompson  Pass 
into  the  Tekell  country.  It  appeared  but  a  mile  or 
two  across  that  sea  of  vapor  to  the  opposite  side;  yet 
it  was  about  as  reasonable  to  think  that  one  could 
boat  across  such  an  arm  of  the  sea,  as  to  believe  that 
four  thousand  feet  below  was  a  valley  with  spruce 
forests,  where  one  hundred  men  and  as  many  horses 
were  building  a  trail  for  Uncle  Sam.  The  sun  shone 
warmly  up  there,  while  those  below  were  obscured 
from  its  rays. 

I  descended  Into  that  vapor,  where  distances  and 
objects  appear  very  deceptive.  When  near  the  lower 
edge  of  It,  I  discovered  what  I  took  to  be  a  mountain 
sheep,  standing  on  a  rock.  The  distance  to  the  object 
appeared  to  be  about  seventy  yards.  I  decided  to 
shoot  it  in  the  sticking  place,  as  hunters  call  a  certain 
part  of  the  neck,  when  suddenly  the  thing  stood  up 
on  its  hind  legs! 


Trailing   and   Camping  in  Alaska       151 

"  How  stupid  to  think  that  a  bear  was  a  sheep !  " 
I  said  to  myself. 

The  aim  was  changed  to  the  end  of  its  nose,  be- 
cause the  smokeless  powder  would  send  a  bullet  to 
its  brain  and  avoid  argument.  Away  went  the  bullet 
and  over  turned  the  supposed  bear.  I  thought  that 
he  would  roll  down  on  about  an  acre  of  snow  which 
appeared  to  be  just  below  there.  Imagine  my  sur- 
prise when  I  approached  and  found  that  instead  of 
the  acre  of  snow  it  comprised  about  thirty  acres,  and 
was  half  a  mile  away;  and  moreover,  that  the  bear 
was  only  a  whistling  marmot  (hedgehog)  which 
weighed  about  fifteen  pounds! 

Once  four  soldiers  were  on  the  Valdez  glacier 
when  the  atmospherical  conditions  were  similar  to 
those  just  related.  They  were  extra  good  shots,  all 
of  them.  They  discovered  what  they  supposed  to  be 
a  bear,  and  with  their  army  rifles,  fired  several  shots 
without  disturbing  him.  They  decided,  then,  that  he 
was  too  far  away,  so  they  raised  their  sights  to  six 
hundred  yards  and  fired  some  more,  with  like  effect. 
One  decided  to  approach  nearer,  but  he  had  walked 
only  a  few  steps  when  he  stopped,  looked  a  while, 
lowered  his  sights  and  deliberately  killed  what  proved 
to  be  a  marmot,  only  about  forty-five  steps  from 
them. 

If  you  should  see  a  snow  bird  on  the  glacier  at 
such  a  time,  you  would  think  probably  that  it  was  a 
goose. 


152        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

On  one  occasion  when  in  a  fog  of  high  altitudes, 
and  when  the  atmosphere  was  in  a  magnifying  mood, 
I  ran  almost  plump  against  a  huge  grizzly.  I  will 
not  now  tell  of  his  hugeness,  but  will  wait  a  few  more 
years  until  my  nerves  are  sufficiently  relaxed,  and 
then  I  will  pick  my  subject — one  who  is  physically 
strong  enough  to  bear  up  under  the  load,  after  he  has 
been  given  ample  time  to  brace  himself;  and  I  will 
tell  It  to  him  by  installments,  too,  for  it  would  be  un- 
reasonable to  expect  any  one  to  take  on  the  whole 
cargo  at  once. 

A  few  days  after  that  mountain  climb  I  assisted  a 
few  prospectors  across  a  glacier  stream,  and  Mr. 
Fowler,  a  gentleman  from  Missouri,  attempted  to 
ride  behind  me  on  a  bucking  mustang.  He  expressed 
more  confidence  in  his  horsemanship  before  he 
mounted  than  afterwards.  That  cayuse  began  Im- 
mediately to  take  exercise.  He  bucked  over  boulders 
and  Into  the  stream,  where  we  all  disappeared  from 
view  In  deep  water.  The  horse  lost  his  buck  and  a 
passenger  while  beneath  that  water.  I  discovered 
Mr.  Fowler's  pistol-pocket  floating  above  the  sur- 
face, and  as  that  was  all  of  his  ship  that  was  In  sight, 
I  attempted  to  run  the  horse  down  there  and  pull 
him  ashore,  but  presently  he  floated  to  shallow 
water  and  then  crawled  out — cold,  hatless  and 
unhurt. 

Dorsey  Leavell  was  my  companion  for  a  month 
while  we  chased,  abused,  packed  and  repacked  two 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       153 

of  the  worst  mustangs  that  ever  came  into  Uncle 
Sam's  possession.  They  never  lost  an  opportunity 
to  buck  off  a  pack,  to  run  four  or  five  miles  when 
hobbled,  or  to  kick  at  us.  At  one  place,  when  we 
turned  them  out  to  graze,  they  swam  across  a  river 
and  gave  us  "  the  horse  laugh."  We  were  two  days 
in  regaining  possession  of  them.  We  taught  one  of 
those  equines  to  be  fast  by  anchoring  him  to  a  moun- 
tain. It  was  necessary  to  do  that  to  get  a  pack  on 
him.  When  the  blind  was  raised,  he  very  rudely  and 
incautiously  placed  his  two  hind  feet  against  my 
"  dinner  pail,"  just  below  the  belt. 

We  met  Mr.  Dunham  at  Dutch  Flat  and  he  ex- 
pressed sympathy  for  us  because  of  our  prospective 
exposure  to  dangerous  rivers.  He  added  that  there 
was  enough  water  between  there  and  Valdez  for  him, 
and  the  distance  was  only  twenty  miles.  Poor  man ! 
He  was  drowned  before  he  arrived,  and  in  sight  of 
the  town. 

On  the  divide  several  bears  were  seen  while  we 
were  scouting  for  a  trail  location,  and  one  little  black 
fellow  insisted  on  boarding  with  us  when  we  were 
absent  or  asleep.  Once,  when  chased  out  of  our 
camp  by  my  little  dog  Pete,  he  became  so  attached 
to  our  pot  of  beans  that  he  took  it  with  him,  and 
never  even  returned  the  pot.  Mr.  Leavell  is  my  wit- 
ness to  that  remarkable  statement.  We  concluded 
that  In  getting  away,  he  had  run  his  nose  under  the 
bail,  and  as  he  ran  up  a  very  steep  hill,  he  did  not 


154        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

lower  his  nose  and  let  the  pot  drop,  until  he  was  too 
far  away  for  us  to  find  it. 

Once,  when  going  to  the  creek  to  wash  for  break- 
fast, I  met  that  dishonest  Bruin.  We  were  just 
twelve  steps  apart;  I  in  shirt  sleeves,  bareheaded  and 
unarmed,  while  he  was  wearing  a  beautiful  coat  and 
a  grin  that  seemed  to  say: 

"  I  haven't  your  pot." 

At  that  minute  he  could  have  had  a  foot-race,  for 
I  felt  very  much  like  giving  a  free  exhibition  of  my 
sprinting  powers,  but  only  refrained  because  of  his 
apparent  good  nature.  If  I  had  run  through  camp 
with  that  bear  a  close  second,  Leavell  might  have 
upset  the  coffee  pot  in  his  eagerness  to  join  the  con- 
test. The  bear  slowly  turned  and  crossed  the  creek, 
whereupon  I  became  very  brave,  returned  to  camp, 
got  my  revolver  and  followed,  only  to  fall  into  a  foot 
of  cold  water,  which  chilled  my  enthusiasm.  I  re- 
turned to  breakfast  In  a  condition  that  seemed  to 
amuse  my  companion  very  much. 

One  night  a  Swede  camped  near  us,  and  we  cau- 
tioned him  about  the  little  bear  that  was  liable  to 
come  right  Into  his  camp  and  help  himself.  When 
we  awakened  the  man  the  next  morning,  he  had  a 
gun,  an  ax  and  a  hatchet  in  bed  with  him.  We 
laughingly  told  him  that  a  club  was  all  he  needed  to 
run  that  little  black  cub  away,  but  he  replied: 

"  May-be-so  his  moder,  and  may-be-so  his  grand- 
moder  come  aroundt!  " 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        155 


All  one  day  we  crawled  through  the  brush  In  the 
rain,  and  when  we  returned  to  camp  we  were  tired, 
wet  and  hungry;  then  we  discovered  that  Bruin  had 
destroyed  every  edible  thing  in  camp.  He  had  scat- 
tered flour  over  an  acre  of  ground,  covered  himself 
with  it  and  glory,  and  us  with  despondency.  Dorscy 
was  a  young  man,  only  a  boy  out  for  experience,  and 
as  this  was  a  larger  chunk  than  is  usually  found, 
he  sat  down  on  a  log  to  absorb  it.  While  it  rained, 
and  his  thoughts  drifted  back  home,  he  exclaimed: 

"  I  have  found  fault  with  trivial  things  at  home, 
such  as  the  absence  of  my  favorite  pie  from  the 
dinner-table,  but  if  ever  I  get  back,  hang  me  if  I 
find  fault  with  anything  as  long  as  I  live !  " 

What  a  valuable  lesson  it  is,  for  one  to  be  placed 
where  he  has  real  cause  to  complain,  and  knows  that 
it  would  not  help  matters.  How  ridiculous  it  ap- 
pears to  one  who  has  been  inured  to  the  hardships, 
privations  and  mishaps  of  the  frontier,  when  re- 
turning to  civilization,  to  see  people  worrying  about 
houseflles  or  a  little  mud,  or  complaining  of  food 
that  really  is  too  good  for  them.  It  Is  natural  for 
human  beings  to  have  trouble,  and  when  they  have 
none  of  their  own,  they  try  to  borrow  some.  If  that 
is  impossible  they  will  imagine  they  have  trouble, 
anyway. 

I  once  camped  in  a  lonely  place,  in  a  grove  of  tim- 
ber, and  did  not  know  there  was  another  person  on 
that  river.   The  twilight  was  warm  and  balmy,  just 


156        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

the  kind  to  suggest  an  evening's  smoke.  Suddenly 
I  was  surprised  by  the  sweet  strains  of  a  piccolo  that 
emanated  apparently  from  the  solitude.  Investiga- 
tion disclosed  Harry  King,  sitting  on  a  log,  near  by, 
and  filling  the  surrounding  wilderness  with  melodious 
music.     I  shot  him  with  a  kodak. 

We  met  an  unlucky  crowd  of  prospectors  who  had 
lost  their  outfits  in  a  destructive  forest  fire,  and  some 
others  who  were  going  out  because  of  the  scurvy. 
One  tired  man  sat  down,  wiped  the  sweat  from  his 
brow  and  remarked : 

"  That  was  a  singular  incident  about  a  steamboat 
coming  so  far  out  on  the  Valdez  mud  flats  that  it  is 
a  total  loss!  " 

"  Where  did  you  hear  that?  "  we  asked. 

"  Mr.  Garrett  at  the  rapids  told  us  about  it." 

Garrett  had  been  stationed  at  the  rapids  with  In- 
structions to  feed  all  needy  prospectors  on  their  way 
out.  Everybody  we  met,  after  that,  was  overflow- 
ing with  startling  happenings,  such  as:  that  the 
American  fleet  at  Manila  had  been  captured  by  the 
natives  swimming  out  to  it;  that  the  cannery  at  Orca 
had  been  blown  up;  and  that  Captain  Abercrombie 
had  been  taken  out  to  be  treated  for  insanity.  When 
asked  who  gave  them  the  news,  they  always  replied: 

"  Mr.  Garrett,  at  the  rapids." 

Their  actions  and  looks  seemed  to  say,  "  It  makes 
no  difference  who  gave  us  the  information,  when  it  is 
true." 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       157 

We  arrived  at  the  rapids  in  August,  and  held  a 
private  consultation  with  that  original  "  Huck  Finn," 
from  Missouri.  When  asked  why  he  insisted  on 
filling  up  the  pilgrims  with  such  doses  of  prevari- 
cation, his  answer  was: 

"  You  see,  I  am  sent  in  here  to  relieve  suffering, 
and  those  fellows  come  to  me  suffering  for  news. 
They  just  beg  for  it,  although  they  should  know  that 
I  have  been  in  here  all  summer,  with  no  chance  of 
procuring  a  good  article  of  fresh  news  for  myself; 
but  they  insist,  so  I  am  compelled  to  do  the  best  I 
can,  even  if  I  do  improvise  a  little.  I  tell  you,  It 
just  keeps  me  awake  at  nights,  trying  to  think  of 
news  to  tell  the  next  crowd  that  comes  along." 

One  fellow  came  along  who  played  a  practical 
joke  on  Garrett,  and  he  succeeded  so  well  that  Gar- 
rett induced  him  to  forego  unwrapping  his  sleeping- 
bag,  but  to  sleep  In  one  of  Garrett's  bunks.  When 
the  man  was  asleep,  Garrett  unrolled  the  sleeping- 
bag  and  placed  a  four-pound  rock  in  it;  then  rolled 
it  up  again.  The  next  day  the  joker  carried  that 
extra  weight  for  twenty  miles,  and  when  he  unrolled 
his  bed  and  found  the  rock,  he  wanted  to  return  and 
kill  Garrett,  but  he  had  no  ammunition. 

I  camped  near  the  point  where  Schrader  and  Mil- 
ler were  once  slowly  working  their  way  through  the 
alder  brush,  when  they  observed  a  bear  looking  down 
at  them,  from  the  mountain-side.  They  noticed  the 
bear   slap   her   cubs,   then   run    towards   them,    but 


158       Trailing;   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

thought  nothing  of  it  until  the  bear  rose  up  within 
a  few  feet  of  them,  and  said  "  Wough!  "  Miller  re- 
plied by  saying  "  Wough,  Wough!  "  and  discharged 
his  rifle  in  the  bear's  direction.  The  bear  surprised 
Schrader  by  falling  dead.  Schrader  declared  that 
Miller  did  not  raise  his  gun  to  his  shoulder,  but  that 
after  the  bear  was  dead  he  fired  several  shots  at  the 
body  and  missed  every  time. 

It  is  not  probable  that  it  was  such  an  accident  as 
they  pretend,  for  Miller  Is  a  person  of  quick  de- 
cision, and  just  the  kind  of  a  man  to  kill  a  bear  be- 
fore some  men  would  have  made  up  their  minds  what 
to  do. 

Miller  discovered  the  noted  Miller  gulch,  about 
a  year  later,  and  fortune  could  not  have  bestowed  her 
favors  on  a  more  deserving  man.  I  will  here  state 
that  my  companion,  Mr.  Leavell,  also  struck  it  rich 
by  locating  a  good  placer  claim,  the  following  year. 
He  returned  home  and  married.  James  Garrett  also 
found  rich  pay  gravel,  but  he  looked  on  his  fortune 
as  a  practical  joke  that  the  devil  or  some  one  had 
played  on  him.  Recently  he  lost  his  life  In  a  bibulous 
effort  to  break  even. 

It  was  the  latter  part  of  August  before  I  could 
depart  on  the  exploring  trip  into  the  Alaskan  Range. 
It  was  entirely  too  late  for  me  to  be  able  to  reach 
the  headwaters  of  the  Tanana,  by  any  possibility  If 
I  had  so  desired,  but  I  might  reach  the  head  of  the 
Chlstochlna.     I  bade  my   companion   farewell  and 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       15S^ 

crossed  Quartz  Creek  divide,  near  where  the  fall 
before  Jack  Miller,  Charley  Simonstad,  Joe  Bell, 
Nelson,  Jacobsen  and  Faber  had  been  caught  in  a 
snow  storm.  They  had  found  the  carcass  of  a  dead 
government  mule  which  had  wandered  to  that  place, 
and  they  claim  that  the  Thanksgiving  dinner  they 
enjoyed  of  mule  meat  will  always  be  remembered. 

I  descended  to  the  Tonsina  Lake,  that  nestled 
quietly  between  high  mountains.  Its  surface  was 
almost  constantly  disturbed  by  the  lashing  of  the 
salmon,  and  the  flips  of  the  trout.  The  outlet  was 
crossed  by  swimming  our  horses,  and  camp  was 
made  near  some  Indians.  A  few  days  before,  Frank 
Lavigne  had  been  drowned  at  that  place.  I  camped 
the  next  night  on  the  divide  between  this  and  Klutena 
Lake,  where  I  caught  a  fine  mess  of  trout  from  Twin 
Lakes.     A  solar  observation  indicated  6i°  45'  N. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

/in  Indian  never  thinks  of  yesterday  and  consequently  has 
no  history.  One  reasoned  thus:  "  Yesterday  dead!  To- 
morrow may-be-so  Indian  die!  " 

There  is  a  story  current  of  a  white  man's  adven- 
ture with  some  bears  in  that  country.  His  camp  was 
on  one  side  of  the  river,  and  on  the  opposite  shore 
was  an  Indian  camp.  Being  without  provisions,  he 
desired  very  much  to  cross  the  river,  but  as  the  In- 
dian camp  was  back  some  distance  from  the  water, 
and  hidden  among  the  trees,  he  could  not  signal  to 
them  his  wants.  He  waited  for  two  days,  hoping 
that  an  Indian  would  come  in  sight,  so  that  he  could 
make  him  understand  that  he  wanted  a  canoe  brought 
over  for  him. 

Jn  the  afternoon  two  bears  deliberately  walked 
into  his  camp,  and  as  they  approached  from  behind, 
they  were  very  near  to  him  before  he  saw  them. 
Immediately  he  plunged  off  the  bank  into  the  river, 
and  apparently  never  looked  back,  but  swam,  then 
waded,  then  swam  some  more,  and  finally  reached  the 
opposite  shore.  The  Indians  received  and  fed  him 
from  the  best  that  they  possessed.  Presently  another 
white  man  came  along,  and  after  the  half-drowned 
one  had  related  his  experience,  the  newcomer  replied 
with  astonishment : 

160 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        161 

"  Why,  man !     You  might  have  been  drowned !  " 

The  Indian  here  inserted: 

*'  Drowned !  Ha-low  I  He  no  drown  I  He  see 
too  many  bear !     He  no  drown !  " 

I  met  Mr.  Wood  and  Mr.  Rice  at  Copper  Center 
on  their  return  from  the  Yukon.  Wood  had  been 
treed  by  a  bear,  and  Rice  complained  that  a  pair  of 
canvas  leggins,  which  he  had  purchased  at  Valdez, 
had  worn  out  the  first  time  he  had  put  them  on. 
Wood  claimed,  however,  that  Rice  had  not  taken 
them  off  while  on  the  trip. 

A  severe  earthquake  was  felt  while  we  were  there, 
and  an  Indian  said  if  it  shook  any  more  he  would 
go  to  Knik  and  consult  a  priest  about  it.  There  also 
I  met  old  Chief  Stickman,  and  he  told  me  how  he 
had  offered  a  bear  skin,  two  marten  skins  and  a  dog 
for  a  red-headed  white  woman  whom  he  had  seen 
there  the  previous  summer.  Her  husband  had  agreed 
to  the  trade,  but  when  the  Chief  brought  out  the 
articles,  the  white  man  looked  at  his  wife  for  some 
time,  and  then  backed  down.  Poor  Stickman !  He 
said  If  he  had  only  had  another  bear  skin  he  could 
have  procured  the  red-headed  white  woman  he  had 
coveted.  He  had  two  wives  already,  but  that  Indian 
was  ambitious.  He  wanted  a  variety  in  color  as  well 
as  in  numbers. 

Mr.  Date,  whom  I  had  engaged  as  assistant  scout, 
overtook  me  at  the  Tazlina  River.  We  were  a  day 
rafting  our  outfit  over,   and  swimming  the  horses 


162        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

across  that  deep  and  rapid  stream.  After  we  had 
crossed  we  camped  with  a  crowd  of  Gulkana  In- 
dians. They  were  a  happy  lot,  and  sang  and  danced 
nearly  all  night.  They  explained  that  one  of  their 
guttural  chants  was  a  funeral  dirge;  another  a  mar- 
riage song,  and  another  a  religious  melody  or  psalm. 
They  said  that  seventy  of  their  tribe  had  starved  to 
death  the  previous  winter.  The  stories  that  they  told 
greatly  amused  them,  and  they  made  much  over  a 
star  which  they  had  not  seen  for  a  long  time.  Point- 
ing to  the  north  star,  they  explained  it  thus: 

"  He  all  time  set  down.  He  ha-low  klatewah !  " 
meaning  that  it  was  stationary. 

Our  trip  through  the  Copper  River  country  was 
made  up  of  crossing  numerous  rivers,  swimming 
horses,  climbing  table-bluffs  and  wallowing  through 
swamps.  The  September  weather  was  delightful. 
The  mosquitoes  had  gone,  the  sun  shone  brightly 
through  the  clear  atmosphere  and  we  were  in  the 
center  of  the  most  beautiful  landscape  Imaginable. 
During  the  short  Indian  summer  there  appear  pretty 
golden-hued  patches  among  the  green.  The  sere 
brown  leaves  dip  and  flit  to  the  music  of  the  soft 
autumn  zephyrs.  Down  they  come,  fluttering  from 
the  birch,  the  cottonwood  and  the  quaking  asp. 

It  Is  then  that  the  magpie  caws  a  laughing  farewell 
fo  the  northern  summer  and  the  red-winged  black- 
bird gathers  his  wife  and  children  from  the  swamps. 
They  sing  praises  of  their  summer  home,  and  grow 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        163 


eloquent  upon  the  prospect  of  a  southern  journey. 
The  pheasant  cock,  with  ruffled  neck  and  spreading 
tall,  struts  across  the  trail  and  disappears  In  the  un- 
dergrowth. The  spruce  hen  flutters  as  if  going  to 
fly,  then  hesitates  and  looks  the  traveler  out  of  coun- 
tenance. The  lltde  red  squirrel  barks  rather  de- 
fiandy  when  you  approach  too  near  his  granary  of 
winter  supplies.  Above  the  timber,  on  the  mountain- 
side, the  ptarmigan  fly  In  great  flocks.  It  Is  then  that 
we  enjoy  the  clear,  azure  sky,  cool  nights,  and  warm, 
sunny  days 

We  left  the  Copper  River  near  the  mouth  of  the 
Sanford — as  It  was  advisable  to  travel  over  unex- 
plored ground  to  gather  Information  for  the 
Copper  River  Exploring  Expedition — and  struck 
across  the  country  for  the  headwaters  of  the  Chisto- 
chlna  River.  The  original  name  of  this  river  Is 
Cristochlna  (Holy  tea  water  river).  The  word 
"  Christ "  was  given  to  the  Indians  by  the  Russian 
missionaries;  "to"  Is  the  Indian  word  for  water; 
*'  chi  "  Is  another  Russian  word  and  Is  tea  In  Eng- 
lish; and  "  na  "  Is  the  Indian  word  for  river.  All 
river  names  ending  with  "  na  "  should  be  compound 
words  such  as  Shitl-na  (Copper  River)  and  Tana-na 
(Trail  River).     Chltl-to  means  Copper-Water. 

We  followed  the  signs  that  had  been  left  here  and 
there  by  the  Indian,  Gokona  Charley  and  his  family, 
as  they  had  migrated  that  way  to  the  mountains  on 
their  fall  hunt.     We  traveled  past  muskrat-popu- 


164        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

lated  lakes,  and  near  one  of  those  lakes  I  killed  a 
coot  duck  which  was  flying  overhead.  My  com- 
panion expressed  surprise  at  that  revolver  shot,  and 
I  was  just  as  much  astonished  myself,  but  it  was  dis- 
cretion to  say  less  about  it.  A  coot  duck  is  a  large 
black  fellow  that  can  be  eaten  if  the  coot  is  first 
boiled  out  of  him ;  but  there  would  be  very  little  duck 
left,  after  that  was  done. 

The  Alaskan  Range  is  Alaska's  backbone,  and  in- 
cludes the  highest  mountain  in  North  America — 
Mount  McKinley — and  it  ends  with  the  vertebra  of 
the  Wrangell  group,  including  the  mountains  St. 
Elias  and  Logan,  each  about  20,000  feet  high,  and 
many  others  that  are  more  than  16,000  feet  above 
the  sea-level.  Mountain  climbers  may  be  assured, 
if  they  really  enjoy  scaling  such  heights,  they  will 
find  in  that  region  the  monumental  culmination  of 
their  desires;  but  the  ordinary  mortal  can  hardly 
contemplate  such  immense  surroundings  without  ex- 
periencing a  sense  of  weariness. 

We  arrived  at  the  foothills  of  the  range,  and,  after 
scaring  a  moose  from  a  pasture  of  high  grass,  our 
horses  took  possession  for  their  night's  feed.  The 
salubrious  climate  that  we  had  enjoyed,  left  us  at 
Chisna  Creek  and  we  were  in  wintry  weather.  A 
few  men  had  located  placer  claims  there  before  the 
weather  would  prevent  them  from  recrossing  the 
Coast  Range.  I  located  a  claim  myself,  in  a  snow- 
covered  gully,  and  that  locality  proved  to  be  such  a 


Among  the  Moiiiitains  of  tlic  .lUisL-an  h'aiKjc. 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        165 

poverty-stricken  one  that  It  was  afterwards  known  as 
Powell's  gulch. 

The  bushy-headed  Indian,  known  as  Gokona  Char- 
ley, came  into  our  camp,  and  said  that  his  family 
was  then  camped  on  the  Slahna  River.  He  declared 
that  he  could  pan  gravel  with  as  good  results  as  any 
experienced  miner.  We  fed  and  sheltered  him  over 
night,  and  gave  him  ten  pounds  of  flour  because  he 
had  told  us  that  his  little  boy  was  very  sick.  We 
learned  the  next  year  that  when  Charley  returned  to 
his  camp  he  had  found  his  wife  wailing  over  the 
dead  body  of  their  child. 

Before  leaving,  he  had  insisted  that  I  should  locate 
a  claim  on  a  small  gulch,  about  eight  miles  from  the 
point  where  we  were  camped.  He  said  I  should 
have  to  go  through  a  pass,  that  there  was  "  hiyu  " 
gold  there,  and  that  others  would  surely  find  it  the 
next  year.  The  poor  fellow  was  trying  to  repay  me 
for  my  hospitality.  Believing  that  the  pass  he  men- 
tioned might  be  of  advantage  to  the  military  expedi- 
tion in  running  a  trail  through  the  Alaskan  Range, 
and  also  that  the  Captain  West  discoveries  were  in 
that  locality,  I  attempted  to  find  the  gulch  he  de- 
scribed. The  winter  had  set  in  with  a  vengeance  in 
those  high  mountains,  and  I  had  no  shoes,  my  feet 
being  wrapped  in  sacks.  The  outlook  was  very 
gloomy  to  us,  as  our  chances  of  getting  through  the 
valley  and  across  the  three  divides  of  the  Coast 
Range,  where   there   was   no  trail,   were   not  very 


166       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

pleasant  to  consider,  together  with  the  fact  that  we 
were  almost  out  of  supplies. 

Just  before  the  autumn  day  had  closed  I  stood  In 
the  pass,  after  a  weary  day's  march,  and  looked 
across  to  a  white  mountain-side  and  probably  to- 
wards the  long-sought  locality.  It  would  be  impos- 
sible to  go  down  into  the  deep  canyon  and  climb  out 
of  it,  for  the  snow  was  too  deep  to  admit  of  such 
an  undertaking;  and  besides,  one  would  have  neces- 
sarily to  tramp  all  night  to  keep  warm.  The  water 
was  frozen,  so  no  gravel  could  be  washed.  While  I 
stood  there,  with  the  snowflakes  whipping  my  face, 
they  seemed  to  say:  "Your  life  Is  at  stake  for  the 
greed  of  gold!     Is  It  worth  while?  " 

Somewhere  over  yonder,  a  mile  or  two  away,  and 
now  covered  from  the  sight  of  man,  was  the  sought- 
for  treasure  of  the  wild,  but  the  doors  of  Nature's 
vaults  had  been  closed  against  me.  My  friends  can 
testify  that  my  credit  always  has  been  limited,  and 
I  know  It  always  will  be  so,  yet  I  confess  that  the  real- 
ization I  was  weighing  my  life  In  the  balance  with 
the  gold  that  is  worshiped  by  fools,  made  my  esti- 
mate of  that  filthy  lucre  gradually  sink  below  par. 

As  I  slowly  and  wearily  wended  my  way  back, 
by  the  light  of  the  snow,  I  reflected  that  If  Apollo 
had  been  a  prospector  instead  of  a  sheep-herder, 
and  his  scene  of  activity  had  been  Alaska,  he  would 
have  sung,  no  doubt,  of  the  beauties  of  nature,  be- 
cause he  usually  did,  but  that  very  often  his  refrain 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        167 


would  have  been  varied  by  the  favorite  recitative 
of  the  country:     "  Please  pass  the  beans." 

I  have  always  thought  that  the  love  of  money  was 
base,  and  a  bar  against  a  higher  life,  yet  I  doggedly 
resolved  to  return  the  next  year  and  continue  my 
search.  If  I  had  been  allowed  to  leave  the  coast  a 
month  or  even  ten  days  earlier,  I  should  have  had 
my  choice  of  locations  on  Miller  Gulch  and  Slate 
Creek,  which  have,  at  this  writing,  produced  about 
two  tons  of  gold. 

It  is  a  consolation  to  know,  however,  that  the 
locality  was  staked  by  more  deserving  men  than  some 
others  who  would  have  beaten  Captain  West  and 
myself  out  of  it,  and  who  could  not  travel  a  straight 
trail  unless  there  was  an  impassable  barrier  on  either 
side. 

The  snow  continued  to  fall,  and  the  next  day  we 
prepared  to  leave.  The  air  was  calm  and  every- 
thing was  purely  white.  That  is  when  the  ptarmigan 
come  down  off  the  mountain  and  say  laughingly: 

"  I've  come  back!  " 

They  descend  singly  and  in  flocks.  A  flutter  and 
a  sail,  a  flip  and  a  cackle,  and  there  is  a  ptarmigan 
down,  and  laughing  about  it!  You  cannot  see  him 
because  he  is  as  white  as  the  snow.  If  you  had  found 
him  two  or  three  weeks  before,  his  color  would  have 
been  brown,  but  the  first  snow  has  remained  on  the 
mountain  where  he  has  been,  and  now  he  is  white. 
At  this  time  of  the  year,  on  a  few  of  them,  may  be 


168        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaslm 

noticed  a  dark-brown  spot  about  the  size  of  a  silver 
dollar,  but  even  that  will  be  white  in  a  few  days. 

On  our  return  I  went  out  to  kill  a  few  of  them 
to  eat.  One  came  down,  not  twenty  steps  away,  and 
thinking  I  saw  the  brown  spot,  I  fired,  only  to  knock 
the  snow  off  a  rock.  The  bird  was  two  feet  to  one 
side  and  had  no  brown  spot.  He  fluttered  up  and 
came  down  again.  They  have  a  red  ring  around  the 
eyes,  and  looking  for  that  I  approached  until  it  was 
visible,  and  then  I  killed  the  bird.  The  snow  is  not 
nearly  so  white  in  the  spring,  and  after  it  has  lain 
on  the  ground  all  winter  those  birds  are  seen  much 
more  easily.  It  is  difficult  to  distinguish  a  white  ptar- 
migan on  an  October  snow,  even  at  the  distance  of 
twenty  steps. 

They  have  fine  feathers,  a  kind  of  hairy  down, 
completely  covering  their  feet,  and  their  plumage 
changes  color  almost  constantly.  The  small  rock 
ptarmigan  is  very  gentle,  and  often  a  hen  will  fight 
to  protect  her  little  chicks.  They  are  frequently 
found,  in  summer,  hovering  over  their  broods  In 
the  rain.  This  presents  a  pretty  picture.  The  chicks 
peep  from  their  mother's  feathers,  while  the  hen  is 
so  gentle  that  you  can  almost  stroke  her  back  with 
your  hand.  My  little  dog  Pete  was  trained  to  treat 
the  hens  and  little  chicks  with  respect. 

We  left  that  camp  on  September  28,  and  the 
distance  to  the  coast,  over  the  route  we  were  com- 
pelled to  travel,  without  a  trail,  was  about  three 


Trailing   and   Camming   in   Alaska       169 


hundred  miles.  The  white  Coast  Range,  with  Its 
three  divides  to  cross,  looked  very  forbidding  and 
hopeless  to  us,  who  were  almost  out  of  food,  and 
with  feet  wrapped  in  sacks.  We  fed  all  of  our  flour 
to  the  horses  to  enable  them  to  get  down  to  the  val- 
ley, where  they  could  live.  So  long  as  they  had  suffi- 
cient strength  to  carry  our  blankets,  we  felt  secure, 
for  we  were  too  weak  to  carry  them  ourselves.  We 
managed  to  kill  a  spruce  hen  or  a  pheasant  almost 
every  day,  but  game  was  very  scarce  at  that  time 
along  the  river. 

If  the  weather  had  been  delightful  when  we  came 
up.  It  was  very  different  now,  for  the  cold  north 
winds  blew  down  the  Copper  River  valley  and 
through  the  naked  tree  tops.  With  a  suggestive 
whistle,  and  apparently  irresistible  force,  but  with 
futile  effect,  they  hurled  themselves  against  those 
great  natural  battlements,  the  Wrangell  group.  The 
atmosphere  was  so  clear.  It  was  reasonable  to  be- 
lieve that  those  mountains  could  be  seen  at  a  dis- 
tance of  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles.  Mt.  Wrangell 
sent  up  a  steady  spiral  of  smoke  and  steam  that 
drifted  away  as  clouds  towards  the  Pacific. 

When  we  were  sitting  by  our  campfire,  one  even- 
ing, with  nothing  to  eat,  two  Indians  approached 
us  and  asked  If  we  had  "muck-muck"  (food)? 
Upon  receiving  a  negative  answer,  they  counted  the 
number  of  nights  that  they  should  be  away  from 
their  winter  camp,  and  then  "pot-latched"   (gave); 


170       Trailing   and   Campirig   in   Alaska 

us  two  dried  salmon.  These  salmon  are  cured  with- 
out salt,  and  white  men  can  eat  the  half-rotten  fish 
only  when  nearly  starved;  therefore,  our  condition 
may  be  inferred,  from  the  fact  that  we  ate  and  en- 
joyed those  fish. 

At  one  camp  we  supped  on  snowballs,  and  break- 
fasted on  wind-pudding  and  Ice-water.  When  we 
arrived  at  Copper  Center,  we  had  eaten  but  one 
pheasant  during  the  previous  thirty-six  hours.  We 
found  Dick  Wortham  there,  running  a  trading-post 
for  Mr.  Holman,  for  the  purpose  of  securing  furs 
from  the  Indians.  He  had  laid  in  a  supply  of  moose 
meat  for  the  winter,  and  we  sat  down  to  the  table 
and  ordered  the  best  he  had.  He  placed  a  large  pot 
of  boiled  meat  before  us  and  said: 

"  Boys,  I  put  fourteen  pounds  of  moose  meat  In 
that  pot!  " 

We  ate,  and  then  rested,  and  began  to  eat  again, 
and  he  exclaimed: 

"  Boys,  I  put  fourteen  pounds  of  moose  meat  In 
that  pot !  " 

Before  retiring,  we  attacked  that  pot  again  and 
succeeded  In  eating  all  that  there  was,  so  Dick  set- 
tled back  once  more,  and  exclaimed: 

"  Boys,  I  put  fourteen  pounds  of  moose  meat  In 
that  pot!  " 

He  charged  us  nine  dollars  for  that  meat  and 
other  sundries,  and  we  had  to  raise  the  price  of  our 
worthless  placer  locations  a  few  thousands  to  pay 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        171 

the  bill.  I  met  Dick,  nearly  a  year  after  that  inci- 
dent, and  in  answer  to  my  salutation  he  exclaimed: 

"  Honest  to  God,  I  put  fourteen  pounds  of  moose 
meat  in  that  pot!  " 

A  few  Indians  visited  that  post,  from  a  near-by  vil- 
lage, and  among  them  was  a  little  girl  with  the  pretty 
name  of  Natalia.  I  inquired  diligently  why  they 
had  named  the  child  "  Natalia,"  but  no  one  seemed 
to  know;  and  it  was  a  striking  illustration  of  their 
unconscious  absorption  of  influence  from  far-away 
Russian,  for  Natalia  was  the  name  of  the  mother  of 
Peter  the  Great,  Russia's  most  practical  ruler. 

From  Copper  Center  it  was  a  battle  with  the  ele- 
ments. Our  food  was  insufficient  and  we  had  no  trail 
to  follow.  We  met  Mr.  Holman  and  his  assistants, 
who  were  burdened  with  the  first  mail  from  Valdez 
to  the  Yukon,  and  he  richly  deserves  the  credit  of 
delivering  it  under  the  conditions  that  then  existed. 

Our  warm  and  dry  sleeping-bags  enabled  us  to 
sleep  comfortably  beneath  two  feet  of  snow,  on  the 
Grayling  Creek  divide,  while  the  cold  north  wind 
blew,  and  the  poor  horses  pawed  the  grass  on  the 
steep  hillsides.  One  horse  refused  to  move  the  next 
morning.  I  mercifully  sent  a  bullet  to  his  brain,  and 
he  dropped  beside  our  trail.  We  crossed  and  de- 
scended to  the  edge  of  timber  and  camped  on  frozen 
ground. 

We  camped  the  next  night  in  a  deep  valley  that 
was  brimful  of  death-like  stillness,  and  surrounded 


172       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

by  gold  and  silver  crimsoned  peaks  that  had  climbed 
heavenward  to  bask  in  the  light  of  other  planets. 
About  one  o'clock  at  night  I  was  looking  on  one  of 
the  prettiest  sights  of  a  lifetime.  We  were  in  the 
shade  of  a  deep  canyon,  but  the  full  moon  shone  on 
the  tops  of  the  surrounding  mountains,  thousands  of 
feet  above  us  and  miles  away;  and  those  refulgent 
rays  lighted  up  the  canyons  and  deep-cut  gorges  so 
plainly  that  we  could  see  the  great  precipices  and 
glaciers,  away  up  where  human  feet  never  could 
tread.  That  color  overspread  everything  with  a  rich 
golden  glow,  unimaginable  to  those  who  never  have 
viewed  a  northern  winter's  moonlight.  For  one 
hour  I  had  been  absorbed  in  speechless  wonder,  when 
my  companion  called  out: 

"  Say,  you  sleepy-head,  wake  up  and  look  at  the 
grandest  scene  that  Nature  ever  painted  I  I  have 
been  staring  at  it  for  an  hour!" 

There  1  Both  of  us  had  been  gazing  on  the  scene 
and  neither  of  us  had  said  a  word — and  with  empty 
stomachs,  too!  True,  Alaska's  hardships  are  se- 
vere, but  she  often  repays  one  with  that  which 
"filthy  lucre"  cannot  buy.  Ambidextrous  Alaska! 
She  affectionately  strokes  your  brow  with  one  hand 
and  wrathfully  cuffs  you  with  the  other!  She  woos 
you  with  a  smile  and  drives  you  away  with  a  frown. 

iWe  trudged  wearily  Into  U.  S.  Station  No.  3, 
where  we  were  fed.  As  the  wind  was  blowing  fiercely 
across  Thompson  Pass,  we  deferred  the  crossing  until 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska        173 

night.  We  then  made  the  attempt,  but  the  horse, 
"  Dynamite  Bob,"  lost  his  buck  and  life  up  there. 
Although  on  the  summit,  he  refused  to  move  farther, 
and  so  we  left  him  and  sought  shelter  in  the  lee  of  a 
large  rock  on  the  Coast  side  of  the  mountain.  The 
next  morning  I  returned  far  enough  to  see  his  feet 
sticking  out  of  the  drifting  snow. 

I  will  frankly  admit  now  that  I  should  rather  part 
with  my  dollar  watch  than  undergo  the  hardships  of 
such  another  trip.  The  next  morning  we  slowly  de- 
scended into  the  timbered  lowlands,  out  of  the  wind, 
and  tried  to  realize  that  we  had  but  twenty  miles 
to  trudge  to  the  little  town  at  the  end  of  the  land- 
locked bay.  Ah,  how  much  that  destination  meant 
to  us.  It  meant  bacon  and  good  old  beans,  butter 
and  bread  and  possibly  beefsteak!  Our  ambitious 
spirits  gradually  left  our  ankles  and  began  ascend- 
ing towards  our  knees,  as  we  prefigured  the  luxury 
of  reading  letters  from  home  while  enjoying  com- 
fortable shelter  from  the  cold,  bitter  storms. 

When  we  did  weakly  walk  into  Valdez,  we  were 
long-haired,  long-whiskered,  hatless,  shoeless  and 
horseless,  and  represented  the  remnant  of  the  outfit 
that  went  exploring  in  the  Alaskan  Range,  In  the 
fall  of  1899. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

The  boy  described  in  this  chapter  was  at  the  latter  end  of 
the  firecracker  stage  of  life,  possibly  twelve  years  old. 

In  1898  every  locality  north  of  the  45th  parallel 
was  referred  to  as  "  the  Klondike,"  although  the 
Klondike  was  only  a  small  river  in  the  Northwest 
Territory.  If  you  were  going  north  your  friends 
would  insist  that  your  were  going  to  the  Klondike, 
anyway,  and  by  referring  to  you  as  a  Klondiker  they 
would  coerce  you  into  submission. 

In  1900,  it  was  Nome,  Nome;  no  place  like  Nome. 
There  were  enough  persons  going  to  Nome  to  stake 
off  a  territory  as  large  as  New  England,  and  all  ex- 
pected to  secure  desirable  locations.  If  you  suc- 
ceeded in  convincing  others  that  you  were  going 
north  and  not  to  Nome,  you  also  succeeded  in  im- 
pressing them  with  the  belief  that  you  were  an  imbe- 
cile. Prospectors  went  in  pairs,  one  to  hold  the  sack 
while  the  other  shoveled  gold  into  it.  Hardships, 
the  work  of  pulling  sleds,  would  be  unknown;  just 
landing  on  the  beach  and  shoveling  up  the  gold! 
Where  there  was  one  gold-saving  machine  sold  in 
1898,  dozens  of  them  were  sold  in  1900. 

One  man  refused  to  buy  a  machine,  and  in  that 
respect  he  was  a   solitaire;  but  he  further  dlstin- 

174 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        175 

guished  himself  additionally  by  devising  a  scheme 
that  would  readily  return  him  a  fortune.  He  found 
that  he  could  ship  Nome  sand  down  to  Seattle  as 
ballast;  so  he  decided  to  do  that,  and  wash  It  out 
in  the  winter  at  his  leisure,  or  sell  it. 

Good-looking  restaurant  girls  asked  to  be  taken  to 
Nome,  and  others  volunteered  the  information  that 
they  could  wait  on  tables,  wash  dishes,  and  almost 
anything  else  if  only  allowed  to  go  to  Nome.  It  is 
probable  that  a  restaurant  man  could  have  secured 
a  hundred  women  on  those  conditions. 

A  lone  boy  quietly  boarded  a  ship  and  was  living 
there  so  sumptuously  that  he  was  quite  Important. 
Why  not?  Was  he  not  going  to  Nome  to  make  his 
fortune?  The  steamer  did  not  land  at  the  Sitka 
wharf,  but  anchored  out  In  the  stream.  The  Cap- 
tain managed  nevertheless  to  put  that  boy  on  land. 
Later  he  went  on  shore  himself,  and  there  met  the 
penniless  boy  from  Alameda.  The  little  fellow  asked 
him  if  he  did  not  think  It  heartless  and  cruel  to  put 
a  boy  off  on  such  an  Island  without  a  penny  In  his 
pockets  to  get  something  to  eat. 

The  humane  Captain's  feelings  were  touched,  as 
well  as  his  pocket,  and  he  gave  the  boy  a  dollar,  re- 
questing him  to  Invest  it  in  such  a  manner  that  he 
might,  some  day,  hear  what  he  had  done  with  it. 
The  boy  solemnly  promised  and  kept  his  word. 

This  Is  what  he  did  with  it:  he  gave  half  of  the 
dollar  to  an  Indian  to  row  him  out  to  the  steamer 


176       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

just  as  It  was  leaving.  There  he  succeeded  In  climb- 
ing up  the  stern  of  the  vessel  and  hanging  like  a 
spider  from  his  web  to  a  chance  rope  that  happened 
to  be  there,  while  the  Indian  and  his  canoe  were  left 
in  the  boiling  wake.  In  accordance  with  the  good 
luck  that  always  attends  such  daring  boys,  a  pas- 
senger happened  to  look  over  the  stern  of  the 
steamer  and,  seeing  the  boy,  pulled  him  up  on  deck. 
He  remained  unobserved  until  well  out  at  sea,  then 
he  went  around  and  humiliated  the  Captain — In 
fact,  knocked  him  speechless  by  lifting  his  cap  In 
salutation. 

The  Captain  looked  at  the  boy,  then  rubbed  his 
eyes  and  looked  at  him  again.  He  said  to  himself, 
"  Is  It  possible!  Didn't  I  leave  that  boy  at  Sitka? 
And  gave  him  a  dollar  at  the  last  minute?  It's  the 
same  boy,  same  freckles,  same  sunburn,  same  cap 
and  the  same  coat  with  the  hole  In  the  elbow  I  " 

The  boy  continued  to  humiliate  the  Captain  by 
strutting  past  him  again  and  again.  He  seemed  to 
enjoy  the  Captain's  embarrassment.  Finally  the 
Captain  could  no  longer  resist,  so  he  called  to  the 
boy  and  they  held  a  private  conversation.  The 
Captain  felt  as  though  he  were  talking  to  the  presi- 
dent of  the  company,  but  he  wanted  to  know  several 
things.  A  boy  who  could  so  quietly  board  his  ship 
was  evidently  developing  traits  of  character  that 
would,  if  cultivated,  land  him  in  the  penitentiary — 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       177 

or  make  a  capitalist  of  him.  The  boy  told  of  how 
he  had  left  home,  and  how  he  had  helped  his  mother 
wash  the  dishes  the  morning  he  stole  away.  He 
said: 

"  I  told  mother  I  was  going  to  Nome,  but  she 
only  laughed.  She  doesn't  quite  know  me,  yet.  We 
haven't  been  acquainted  long  enough.  I  always 
mean  what  I  say.  I  didn't  have  a  cent  of  money — 
didn't  have  any  when  I  landed  at  Sitka,  for  that  mat- 
ter." 

There  again  he  was  tantalizing  the  Captain. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  asked  the  Cap- 
tain. 

"  Go  to  Nome." 

"  But  this  boat  doesn't  go  there." 

"  I  will." 

"  I'll  put  you  off  at  Valdez,  and  then  what  will 
you  do?  " 

"  Go  to  Nome." 

"  Boats  running  westward  from  Valdez  only  go 
to  Dutch  Harbor,  so  what  will  you  do  there?  " 

"  Go  to  Nome." 

"  What  shall  I  tell  your  mother  when  I  return  to 
California?  that  you " 

"  Went  to  Nome." 

"  See  here,  what  did  you  do  with  the  dollar  that 
I  gave  you?  " 

"  I  spent  half  of  it." 


178       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

"How?" 

"  I  gave  it  to  an  Indian  to  bring  me  out  to  the 
ship." 

"What!  Persuaded  the  Captain  to  loan  you 
money  to  get  back  on  his  boat?  " 

"  Yes,  and  I'll  go  to  Nome  on  the  other  half." 

"  And  that  is  just  what  I'll  tell  your  mother — 
that  you  went  to  Nome !  Now  go  and  see  that  you 
make  yourself  useful  on  board  this  ship." 

It  would  be  interesting  to  know  what  finally  did 
become  of  that  Nome-bound  boy. 

I  came  up  from  Sitka  that  spring,  on  the  steamer 
Bertha,  on  which  was  a  small  man  who  had  a  large 
contract  on  his  hands.  He  was  going  north  to  bring 
out  some  full-grown  Kadiak  grizzlies,  sound  in  both 
body  and  mind.  He  asked  me  what  kind  of  bait 
to  use  for  his  traps,  and  I  suggested  Siwashes,  as 
I  had  heard  they  were  particularly  fond  of  those 
Indians.  Because  that  fellow  bragged  about  not 
being  seasick,  we  dubbed  him  "  The  Sailor,"  but  he 
threw  up  his  reputation  and  other  things  when  we 
struck  a  storm. 

We  were  towing  a  little  schooner  which  was  bound 
for  Latua  Bay.  All  night  long  we  wallowed  in  the 
troughs  of  the  sea,  and  daylight  surprised  us  by 
showing  us  the  schooner  still  hanging  to  our  line. 
When  we  arrived  opposite  Latua,  the  wind  was  not 
right  for  the  schooner  to  enter,  so  the  crew  decided 
to  try  and  hold  on  to  our  boat  until  we  arrived  at 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       179 

Yakutat.  Latua  Bay  Is  landlocked  and  is  connected 
with  the  ocean  by  a  very  narrow  strait  through 
which  the  tide  rushes  with  great  velocity.  It  was 
discovered  in  1786,  by  the  French  navigator,  Pe- 
rouse,  who  lost  several  members  of  his  crew  while 
sounding  the  dangerous  entrance. 

The  little  boat  followed  at  the  end  of  a  long 
line,  while  we  were  driven  into  mountains  of  water 
by  a  southern  gale.  At  times,  It  was  out  of  our  sight 
while  great  waves  rolled  between,  and  at  others  It 
was  on  the  crest  of  a  ridge  while  we  were  on  another, 
with  that  long  line  stretching  across  a  watery  can- 
yon between  us.  Suddenly  the  rope  parted  and 
we  left  the  schooner,  watching  It  become  smaller 
in  the  distance.  Soon  It  was  lost  to  view  and  to  this 
world.  It  was  reported  later  that  the  body  of  one  of 
the  sailors  had  been  found  on  a  beach  nearly  op- 
posite where  we  had  last  seen  them. 

We  were  rocked  up  and  down,  to  and  fro,  for 
fifty-two  hours  In  a  stormy  sea.  When  our  maternal 
ancestors  rocked  their  babies  In  cradles  until  they 
were  so  sick  that  they  vomited  and  too  sick  to  cry, 
their  care-takers  wiped  their  little  mouths,  saying  that 
It  was  a  sign  of  healthy  children  and  proceeded  to 
sicken  them  some  more.  It  Is  probable  that  a  few 
of  those  who  were  most  thoroughly  rocked  In  child- 
hood grew  up  to  be  sailors,  and  at  some  period  of 
their  lives  the  others  wanted  to  be. 

We  came  by  way  of  Yakutat,  where  was  a  mis- 


180       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

sion,  a  store  and  a  postoffice.  The  Indians  destroyed 
that  mission  so  "  there  was  not  one  log  left  upon 
another."  The  Indians  came  out  to  our  vessel  in 
canoes.  They  tied  the  first  canoe  to  the  steamer's 
ladder  with  a  fishline,  then  others  were  tied  to  that 
one,  and  then  to  the  others,  until  there  was  an  acre 
of  canoes  jammed  together,  with  Indians  little  and 
big,  old  and  young,  well  dressed  and  otherwise, 
scrambling  on  board.  They  swarmed  everywhere, 
even  into  our  staterooms  that  were  unlocked. 

The  best-looking  squaws  sold  trinkets  for  the 
whole  tribe.  They  would  cooingly  attempt  to  talk 
until  we  bought  something,  and  then  not  notice  us 
afterwards, — they  were  sophisticated  to  that  extent. 
It  reminded  us  of  their  civilized  sisters  at  church 
fairs. 

The  whistle  blew  half  an  hour  before  leaving,  and 
they  immediately  scrambled  back  into  their  canoes 
and  raced  to  shore,  while  their  dogs  on  land  howled 
with  pain  or  something. 

When  we  landed  at  Valdez  a  man  approached 
me  and  asked  if  I  were  a  moose.  I  replied  that  I 
was  a  caribou.  I  told  an  acquaintance,  who  had  win- 
tered there,  of  the  circumstance,  and  solicited  his 
aid  in  placing  the  interrogator  where  he  could  do 
no  harm,  but  this  friend  informed  me  that  in  my 
absence  the  old-timers  had  organized  a  society  called 
the  Alaska  Moose.  Now,  as  I  had  joined  the  Sons 
of  Rest  at  Juneau,  the  Never  Sweats  at  Sitka,  and 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska        181 

the  H.  A.  Society  at  Valdez,  I  felt  that  I  had  reached 
the  limit  of  fraternal  dignities. 

I  attended  a  church  at  Valdez,  and  listened  to  a 
moccasined  musician  pump  modern  music  from  a 
poor  old  asthmatic  organ.  He  seemed  to  get  more 
action  out  of  his  feet  than  with  his  hands,  but  as  It 
was  conceded  that  he  was  skilled  in  music  we  lis- 
tened with  admiration.  He  went  after  the  poor  de- 
fenseless organ  as  if  he  were  determined  to  cause 
an  earthquake,  and  really  I  feared  that  he  would 
succeed.  That  music  wept,  sighed  and  moaned,  then 
it  cursed,  raved  and  roared,  while  I  held  on  to  my 
nerves  with  difficulty  and  groaned.  The  audience 
was  happy,  not  because  It  was  music,  but  because  it 
was  difficult  to  do  that.  When  he  stopped  to  rest, 
I  Imagined  that  I  could  hear  that  organ  panting. 

I  had  seen  a  young  man  in  Sitka,  a  mere  amateur 
In  music,  take  a  cat  and,  by  holding  its  paws  so  that 
It  was  defenseless,  lay  It  on  a  table;  then  seizing  its 
ear  In  his  mouth,  and  with  his  other  hand  twisting 
its  tail,  he  had  In  such  a  manner  ground  out  just  as 
good  music,  according  to  my  judgment,  as  this  pro- 
fessional had  hydraulicked  through  that  organ. 

If  there  Is  a  nerve  extending  from  the  medulla 
oblongata  to  the  cortex  of  my  skull,  or  that  convolu- 
tion of  brain  matter  which  indicates  music,  It  must 
have  been  strained  or  bent  at  some  time  or  other. 
I  possess  probably  as  much  vocal  music  as  a  mud 
turtle,  yet  I  enjoy  emotional  music,  such  as  may  be 


182       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

produced  by  a  senorita  playing  on  a  guitar,  if  she  be 
passably  good-looking;  or  a  solo  in  a  mix-up  with 
Annie  Laurie;  but  I  draw  the  line  on  those  uncon- 
trollable medleys  which  pick  you  up  with  a  sluice 
fork,  break  your  neck  with  a  Jiu-jitsu  twist,  or  jab 
you  In  the  butt  of  the  ear  with  a  sudden  stop,  and 
then  throw  down  the  lines  and  allow  the  team  to  run 
over  the  bluff.  If  I  were  called  in  to  tune  a  piano, 
I  probably  would  use  a  stick  of  dynamite. 

Like  all  frontier  towns,  many  of  the  inhabitants 
of  Valdez  were  known  only  by  the  "  nick-names  " 
which  had  become  attached  to  them  in  some  unknown 
manner.  I  was  approached  by  a  soldier  who  was 
enjoying  a  respite  from  Fort  Liscum,  and  he  In- 
quired for  the  "  Poor  Man."  I  informed  him  that 
he  was  addressing  the  object  of  his  search,  but  he 
refused  to  accept  my  view  of  the  case,  and  explained 
that  the  "  Poor  Man  "  was  a  fellow  who  had  once 
given  a  dance  to  procure  sufficient  money  to  furnish 
his  house.  The  scheme  had  paid  so  handsomely 
that  he  had  continued  the  dances  twice  a  week  for  the 
rest  of  the  winter,  earning  thereby  the  title  of  the 
"  Poor  Man." 

An  important  day's  doings  at  Valdez  might  have 
been  recorded  thus :  "  '  Oklahoma  Bill '  told  '  Shorty 
the  Kid  '  that  he  had  bought  two  dozen  marten  skins 
of  '  McKInley  George '  for  a  dollar  each,  but  when 
he  had  attempted  to  sell  them  to  '  Cold  and  Greasy,' 
he  had  been  Informed  that  they  were  muskrat  skins, 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       183 

worth  a  nickel  apiece;  and  that  '  Dad,'  'Alkali  Ike  * 
and  '  Frenchy '  had  also  declared  them  to  be  musk- 
rat  skins.  '  Lucky  Bill '  had  bought  a  bear  skin 
from  '  Bear  Brown  ' ;  and  '  Cockney  Jim  '  had  baked 
pies  that  even  '  Alganik  BUI '  couldn't  eat.  '  Stag- 
hound  BUI '  had  sold  his  dog-team  to  '  Big  Rosa  ' ; 
and  '  Slop  Jake '  was  sent  to  the  penitentiary  for 
shooting  at  and  missing  a  man.    '  Scottle  '  had  abused 

*  Dynamite  Dan  '  for  going  down  the  bay  in  '  Fer- 
tilizer Louis's '  sloop;  and  '  Bald-headed  Chris '  had 
taken  his  squaw  with  him,  because  he  had  thought 
'  Red-headed  Chris '  was  falling  In  love  with  her. 

*  Tenas  Rosa  '  had  drawn  a  sketch  of  '  Buck  Hoyt ' ; 
and  '  Dog-faced  Joe  '  had  called  '  Windy  Jim  '  and 

*  Joe  Joe  '  contemptible  perplexities  for  making  re- 
marks   about    '  Copper    River    Red's '    long    hair. 

*  Whiskey  Jim  '  had  been  blown  up  In  a  mine,  and 

*  Slow  Water  WIHIe  '  alias  '  Swift  Water  BIU  '  was 
expected  back  from  Fairbanks."  Those  were  famil- 
iar names  In  Valdez. 

Charley  and  Jack,  two  young  Copper  River  In- 
dians, had  expressed  a  desire  to  come  out  to  the 
coast  and  see  the  many  astonishing  sights  that  had 
been  described  to  them  by  the  white  men.  Older 
Indians  cautioned  them,  fearing  that  the  white  sol- 
diers would  kill  them,  but  upon  being  assured  that 
there  was  no  danger,  they  made  the  venture.  They 
never  had  seen  a  cow  or  a  hog,  a  wagon  or  a  house, 
or  even  a  white  squaw.     They  called  the  beef-cattle 


184«       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

the  "  white  man's  caribou,"  and  the  mules,  his 
"  moose."  Their  first  day's  amusement  was  found 
In  looking  at  those  unfamiliar  sights,  and  what  a 
circus  day  It  was  to  those  children  of  the  forest! 

Charley  retired  to  a  bunk  that  had  been  assigned 
him  when  night  came,  as  his  tired  brain  needed  rest; 
but  Jack  wandered  to  a  social  hall  where  a  dance 
was  being  conducted.  The  wonderful  sight  of  hand- 
somely dressed  women,  gracefully  swinging  In  the 
waltz,  or  dancing  a  two-step  to  the  strains  of  the 
white  man's  music,  caused  him  to  exclaim : 

"  Charley  must  see  the  spirit  dance  of  the  white 
men  and  white  squaws!  "  So  away  he  ran  for  the 
bunk-house,  and  rushing  up  to  the  bedside  of  his 
companion,  he  began  spitting  out  mouthfuls  of  In- 
dian jargon,  while  he  pulled  and  hauled  at  Charley. 
Being  thus  rudely  awakened,  and  in  his  half-dazed 
condition,  Charley  readily  partook  of  Jack's  excite- 
ment. With  one  grand  sweep,  he  threw  his  blan- 
ket covering  across  the  room,  and,  dressed  only  in 
a  very  short  shirt,  made  a  wild  break  for  the  great 
"  Council  House."  He  had  entirely  forgotten  his 
newly  acquired  clothing,  and,  In  his  excitement,  he 
was  not  content  to  hesitate  or  merely  thrust  his  bushy 
head  through  the  doorway  of  the  dance  hall,  but 
rushed  right  In,  despite  his  nude  condition,  and  sat 
down  on  a  vacant  seat.  Possibly  he  might  have  been 
persuaded  to  retire  unnoticed,  if  the  musician  had 
possessed  sufficient  control,  but  when  he  espied  His 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       185 

Naked  Highness — the  Indian — the  violinist  lost  a 
note,  then  two,  then  three,  and  finally  dropped  his 
fiddle  and  roared  with  laughter. 

Charley  became  disgusted  because  of  the  attention 
paid  to  him,  and  retired  to  the  bunk-house,  where  it 
was  explained  to  him  that  while  a  certain  degree  of 
nudity  was  proper  for  ladies,  it  was  customary  for 
men  to  enter  a  ballroom  with  a  full-dress  suit  and 
other  articles  of  apparel  which  evidently  he  did  not 
possess. 

The  musician  attempted  to  continue  the  same  piece 
of  music  but  it  was  a  failure.  When  he  arrived  at 
the  note  he  had  been  playing  when  he  had  discovered 
the  nude  Indian,  he  broke  down.  He  says  that  to  this 
day  he  never  has  been  able  to  get  over  that  note. 

A  few  days  were  spent  waiting  for  orders,  but 
the  time  passed  in  the  expectant  day-dreaming  of 
those  unexplored  wilds;  of  the  game,  flowers  and 
wild  berries  that  abound.  In  August  and  September, 
one  often  finds  acres  of  wild  currants,  blueberries 
and  salmon  berries.  The  salmon  or  molina  berry 
is  most  plentiful  near  the  coast,  where  it  grows  ex- 
tremely large.  They  are  of  two  kinds — ^yellow  and 
black.  They  grow  also  both  the  low  and  high-bush 
cranberry. 


CHAPTER  XV 

/  told  an  Indian  boy  that  President  Roosevelt  was  an 
expert  hunter j  and  he  replied :  "  Bring  White  Chief  to 
Copper  River  and  me  show  him  how  to  snare  rabbits." 

I  STARTED  in  1900  with  one  companion  on  a  trip 
for  the  U.  S.  Copper  River  Exploring  Expedition, 
and  we  were  joined  along  the  route  by  Dave  Rhodes, 
who  is  a  noted  Yellowstone  Park  guide,  August 
Chisholm,  from  California,  William  Soule,  from 
Boston,  and  Ed.  Dickey,  from  Nevada. 

Mr.  Dickey  had  been  a  prospector  in  about  all 
the  mining  districts  of  the  west,  and  he  had  so  ac- 
customed himself  to  adversity  that  he  could  fatten 
on  it.  He  probably  was  the  best-humored  man  in 
Alaska  at  that  time.  He  led  a  foolish  horse  that, 
like  some  men,  would  get  excited,  and  as  he  plunged 
In  the  mire  Dickey  would  remonstrate,  reason  and 
plead  with  the  animal  to  behave.  Once  the  horse 
got  the  better  of  his  instructor  by  dragging  Dickey 
through  a  stretch  of  muddy  water,  but  he  did  not 
complain.    He  just  stroked  the  horse's  neck  and  said : 

"  Baldy,  you  will  compel  me  to  speak  harshly  to 
you,  and  possibly  use  profane  language,  if  you  don't 
reform  your  ways !  " 

In  one  place  I  was  compelled  to  turn  my  horse 

186 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska        187 

loose,  while  we  both  plunged  separately  through  the 
mh-e.  After  repeated  plunges  and  rests,  we  reached 
solid  footing.  I  remained  near  by  to  see  if  Dickey 
would  not  utter  just  one  profane  word  to  relieve  his 
mind  and  my  nerves;  because  his  quiet  behavior  was 
exasperating.  The  circumstances  justified  profanity 
of  the  very  best  quality,  and  Dickey,  it  appeared  to 
me,  was  neglecting  his  privilege.  Millions  of  mos- 
quitoes, all  day,  had  done  what  they  could  to  bring 
out  his  latent  resources,  but  in  vain.  This  last  swamp, 
mud-wax  or  tapioca  pudding,  would  surely  awaken 
him  to  his  duty.  He  succeeded  in  stopping  his 
charger  at  the  very  edge  of  the  mire  and  remarked : 

"  Baldy,  I'm  afraid  you'll  cause  me  to  speak 
harshly  to  you  !  " 

Dickey  then  cautiously  approached  until  he  was 
bogged  down,  and  Baldy  plunged  over  him;  but  as 
he  did  so,  he  knocked  off  Dickey's  hat,  and  with  his 
hind  foot  shoved  It  three  feet  beneath  the  surface. 
The  horse  plunged  and  rested,  alternately,  until 
he  had  gained  terra  firma.  Dickey  turned  red 
in  the  face,  while  pulling  one  leg  at  a  time  from 
the  mire.  He  crawled  over  to  the  place  where  he 
had  seen  his  hat  last,  and  running  his  arm  down  until 
he  spat  out  dirty  water,  extracted  the  hat  and  stood 
up  in  a  commanding  attitude.  Then  I  began  to  feel 
proud  of  him,  for  evidently  he  was  going  to  say 
something,  and  I  hoped  it  would  do  justice  to  him- 
self and  the  occasion.     Very  likely  the  air  around 


188       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

would  be  of  a  bluish  cast  while  Dickey  made  a  record 
for  himself.  The  swamp  needed  it,  the  horse  needed 
It,  and  I,  myself,  needed  a  liberal  amount,  for  not 
telling  him  to  do  some  swearing  before  he  entered 
the  bottomless  place.  Now,  it  was  going  to  come ! 
Dickey  looked  at  nothing  but  shaky  swamp  for  miles 
around  him,  and  then  burst  forth : 

"  Say,  I've  a  notion  to  take  up  a  ranch,  right 
here!" 

There  I  was — unarmed,  but  Dickey  never  will  be 
forgiven  for  his  calm  behavior  on  that  occasion. 
Alaska  is  a  hard  place  on  a  man's  religion,  but  surely 
it  was  unprepared  to  receive  a  man  who  couldn't 
swear  at  all.  Mr.  Dickey  possessed  other  peculiar- 
ities, as  the  following  Incident  goes  to  show: 

An  Irishman  was  left  in  charge  of  a  station  with 
Instructions  not  to  feed  travelers  or  horses.  Dickey 
rode  up  and  applied  for  accommodations,  because 
it  was  late  at  night  and  storming,  and  he  could  go 
no  further.     The  Irishman  said: 

"  Och,  ye  would  be  afther  sthayin'  all  night, 
would  ye?  I've  instruchtions  to  kape  no  wan,  and 
so  ye  better  be  goln'." 

Dickey  hesitated. 

"  Ye  can't  be  sthoppin'  here,  do  ye  understhand!  " 

Dickey  rode  under  the  shed,  and  tied  his  horse 
there,  out  of  the  wind.  The  Irishman  threw  some 
hay  to  his  own  horse,  but  none  to  Dickey's,  although 
that  was  not  necessary,  for  Dickey  did  that  himself. 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        189 

The  Irishman  remonstrated,  but  Dickey  reasoned 
that  the  horse  should  eat  something  while  he  rested. 
Then  Dickey  followed  the  Irishman  into  the  house 
and  seated  himself  by  the  fire. 

"  There'll  be  none  av  the  loikes  av  ye  sthop- 
pin'  here  while  I  have  suprame  authority  to  prevint 
it!" 

"  That's  all  right,"  nonchalantly  replied  Dickey, 
"  I'll  warm  myself  by  the  fire  a  little,  as  it's  very 
cold  outside." 

The  Irishman  sat  down  by  the  fire  for  twenty 
minutes,  expecting  Dickey  to  go,  but  he  did  not; 
then  he  went  Into  the  kitchen.  Dickey  heard  dishes 
rattling  In  there,  so  he  entered  and  discovered  the 
Irishman  quietly  eating  his  supper. 

Dickey  bravely  procured  implements  from  the 
cupboard  and  deliberately  sat  down  to  eat.  The 
Irishman  was  too  astonished  to  talk,  and  after  sup- 
per Dickey  returned  to  enjoy  his  comfort  by  the  fire. 
Presently,  the  Irishman  came  in  and  sat  down  for 
his  evening  smoke,  but  during  the  half-hour  that 
passed  he  spoke  not  a  word.  Finally  he  walked  back 
to  his  bed  and  retired  for  the  night,  still  wondering 
when  his  strange  visitor  would  depart. 

Dickey  coolly  walked  over  to  the  bedside,  re- 
marked that  there  appeared  to  be  room  enough  for 
two,  dropped  off  his  trousers  and  crawled  in  beside 
his  host.  Again  the  Irishman  lost  his  speech,  caused 
by  a  swelling  that  extended  over  his  entire  body  and 


190       Trailing   and   Camping  in  Alaska 

paralyzed  his  vocal  chords.  When  he  recovered 
he  said: 

"By  the  howly  Saint  Patrick!  Oi  niver  saw  the 
loiks  of  ye!  Mon,  the  bed  is  yours!  The  whole 
station  and  the  harse  belongs  to  ye !  Take  all  av  it, 
for  I've  nothin'  to  say;  but  sure  now,  if  ye  plase, 
just  inform  me  whin  me  sarvices  are  not  naded!" 

My  companion  and  I  reluctantly  parted  company 
with  the  others  at  Copper  Center,  and  when  we  ar- 
rived at  the  banks  of  the  Tazlina  River  we  found 
It  a  raging  torrent.  We  rafted  our  outfit  across, 
but  the  horses  refused  to  enter  the  cold  water,  and  I 
was  compelled  to  ride  one  ahead  while  my  companion 
drove  the  others  in.  It  was  a  hard,  long  swim,  and 
we  drifted  far  down  the  stream,  but  finally  gained 
the  other  shore. 

We  remained  two  days  in  camp  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Gokona  River,  because  of  the  excessive  heat. 
When  the  weather  Is  warm  in  Alaska,  the  humidity 
in  the  atmosphere  Is  most  enervating,  yet  one  can 
have  plenty  of  cold  water  to  drink,  and  butter,  if 
kept  in  the  shade,  retains  Its  solidity.  In  that  respect, 
it  is  different  from  the  warm  weather  of  the  southern 
deserts,  for  there,  the  prospector  carries  butter  In  a 
bottle.  The  only  relief  for  a  thermometer's  raging 
fever,  down  on  the  desert,  is  to  apply  wet  cloths  along 
its  backbone.  It  was  at  the  Gokona  River  camp  that 
my  companion  was  thrown  beneath  a  vicious  horse, 
by  the  breaking  of  a  latigo.    I  held  the  horse  by  the 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        191 

bit  while  he  kicked  wickedly  at  his  rider's  head, 
barely  missing  it,  and  while  the  man's  foot  clung  to 
the  stirrup  in  such  a  manner  that  he  was  being 
dragged  to  the  ground.  I  called  to  him  to  lie  low, 
and  he  replied: 

"  O,  I'll  never  let  another  good  thing  pass  by  me, 
as  long  as  I  live  I  " 

Again  the  horse's  shoe  barely  missed  his  head,  and 
he  said: 

"  If  I  ever  get  out  of  this,  won't  I  have  a  time?  " 

When  he  did  get  loose,  he  stood  up  and  shouted: 

"  Gee  whiz !  You  bet  I'm  going  to  have  all  the 
good  things  that  come  my  way  the  rest  of  my  life! 
Golly,  what  a  time  I'm  going  to  have !  " 

There  were  about  forty  Indians  near  there,  who 
were  engaged  in  drying  salmon  for  winter  use. 
Among  them  were  the  two  Gulkana  Indians  who  had 
divided  their  salmon  with  Date  and  myself  the  fall 
before.  Now  had  come  the  time  to  pay  that  debt, 
so  I  measured  each  one  of  them  twenty  cups  of  flour. 
They  were  pleased  and  repeated  "  Chinan  "  (thanks) 
and  said  I  was  a  "  hiyu  good  man." 

My  companion  delighted  in  deceiving  the  Indians 
by  playing  jokes  on  them.  He  performed  the  trick 
of  carelessly  lighting  a  match  and  placing  it  in  his 
trousers  pocket  for  a  moment,  then  taking  it  out 
and  lighting  his  pipe  with  it.  One  of  my  Indian 
friends  wanted  to  try  the  same  trick,  but  I  cautioned 
him.     Another  Indian  stepped  up  and  did  light  a 


192        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alasha 


match,  placing  it  in  his  pocket;  whereupon  he  jumped 
high  in  the  air  and  made  a  few  remarks  that  seemed 
to  amuse  the  others  very  much. 

My  companion  allowed  a  large  Indian  to  beat  him 
at  running  and  jumping,  and  then  he  ran  a  few  steps 
and  turned  a  handspring.  The  Indian  had  never 
seen  that  done  before,  but  bravely  took  off  his  hat 
and  attempted  it.  I  was  reading  at  the  time,  when 
my  attention  was  attracted  by  a  noise  that  sounded 
as  if  a  log  had  fallen  to  the  ground.  Looking  up, 
I  saw  the  Indian  lying  flat  on  his  back,  with  his 
mouth  open. 

It  was  demonstrated  to  the  Indians  that  one  could 
hold  a  coffee-pot  filled  with  boiling  water,  on  the 
flat  of  his  hand.  This  can  be  done,  if  the  pot  be 
immediately  released  as  soon  as  it  stops  boiling.  As 
long  as  it  boils,  it  takes  cold  air  to  the  bottom.  In 
consequence  of  one  Indian  attempting  to  perform 
that  trick,  there  was  some  tall  kicking,  a  scattering 
of  boiling  water,  and  also  some  very  forcible  re- 
marks. I  really  feared  that  companion  was  going 
to  get  us  into  trouble. 

The  Indians  requested  us  to  take  an  Indian  boy 
along  as  far  as  the  Chistochina  River,  and  we  did 
so.  He  amused  himself  by  killing  ducks  and  musk- 
rats  In  the  small  lakes  that  bordered  the  trail,  and 
my  dog  Pete  surprised  him  by  bringing  his  game 
out  of  the  water.  Indian  dogs  or  tame  coyotes 
never  do  that. 


Trailins;   and   Camping  in   Alaska        193 


Instead  of  making  the  attempt  to  get  back  to  the 
head  of  the  Chistochina  on  the  snow,  I  had  remained 
and  accepted  a  position  from  the  government  to 
continue  exploring  in  the  Alaskan  Range.  By  so 
mismanaging,  I  arrived  at  the  mouth  of  Slate  Creek 
just  as  others  had  finished  staking  it  out.  After 
looking  over  the  ground,  I  decided  that  above  Miller 
Gulch,  a  tributary  of  Slate  Creek,  was  where  Captain 
West  had  made  his  discovery.  That  is  the  exact 
place  I  had  been  attempting  to  reach  the  year  before. 

We  cached  most  of  our  provisions  in  trees,  near 
Lake  Mancomen  (beaver)  and  turned  westward  to 
explore  for  a  pass  from  the  north  side  of  the  Cop- 
per River  valley  to  the  Tanana.  When  in  one 
high  pass,  we  experienced  an  electric  storm  of  an  un- 
usual kind.  We  were  in  the  midst  of  a  summer  cloud 
at  an  altitude  of  5000  feet.  The  lightning  did  not 
strike,  but  seemed  to  break  all  around  us.  The  thun- 
der did  not  clap,  but  ran  around  on  a  level,  and 
broke,  ripped  and  tore  along  the  mountain-side, 
while  electricity  caused  the  manes  of  our  horses  to 
look  frowzy  and  our  finger-tips  to  ache.  It  would 
not  have  been  surprising  had  our  eyebrows  been 
scorched.  The  storm  appeared  to  be  busily  engaged 
in  tearing  up  this  vaporous  coverlid,  by  shooting  a 
few  bolts  lengthwise  and  then  ripping  them 
crosswise.  I  never  shall  forget  that  ripping,  split- 
ting and  breaking  atmosphere.  If  Franklin  had  been 
in  such  a  place,  he   would  have  been  surprised  at  the 


194        Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alasha 

short  string  needed  for  his  kite.  This  phenomenal 
treat  was  only  a  few  minutes  in  duration,  but  was 
worth  the  money. 

Owing  to  the  warm  weather,  and  the  consequent 
high  water  that  boiled  from  beneath  the  Gokona 
glacier,  we  were  unable  to  cross  that  river  until 
July  2  1.  On  our  side  of  the  river  was  as  luxuriant 
bunch-grass  as  could  be  found  in  any  country,  and  as 
beautifully  colored  flowers  as  one  could  desire  to 
look  upon;  while  not  two  hundred  yards  from  us 
was  the  glacier  that  extended  for  miles  back  among 
the  mountains.  We  saw  a  bear  eating  willow  buds 
on  the  moraine  of  that  glacier. 

We  crossed  the  glacier  stream,  and  ascended  high 
rolling  hills  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain  range.  From 
there,  we  looked  down  on  the  glacier  and  over  the 
Copper  River  valley.  It  appeared  to  have  been  once 
an  inland  sea.  The  whole  country  around  must  have 
been  uplifted  and  now  streams  were  cross-cutting  old 
channels  where  the  rivers  had  been.  Although  we 
were  fifteen  miles  away  from  timber  and  looo  feet 
above  it,  we  found  a  log  of  ebonized  wood  that  had 
just  been  washed  from  a  high  gravelly  bank.  It 
had  been  burned  brown  by  the  smothered  heat  of 
time  and  had  a  charred  surface  on  one  side,  with 
spruce  bark  on  the  other. 

I  cut  that  log  in  two  pieces,  with  the  intention  of 
returning  this  same  way  and  packing  one  of  them 
out  to  the  coast,  but  failed  to  come  by  that  route. 


Trailing   and   Vamping  in   Alaska       195 

Probably  that  log  will  be  found  at  some  future  time 
with  its  chips  and  the  cutting,  and  great  comment 
will  then  be  made  upon  the  edged  tools  that  evidently 
were  used  at  some  prehistoric  time.  I  fancy  that 
the  sensational  article  thus  written  would  favorably 
compare  with  the  average  canards  that  occasionally 
appear  in  the  modern  Sunday  papers. 

The  many  extinct  craters  in  Alaska  are  an  evi- 
dence of  the  great  volcanic  activity  which  existed 
there  in  ancient  times.  The  then  warm  climate  was 
made  possible  by  the  thinness  of  the  earth's  crust, 
but  the  heat  escaped  through  these  craters;  the  crust 
thickened,  and  possibly  the  sudden  cooling  caused 
great  precipitation;  this  failed  to  melt  in  summer, 
and  consequently  congealed  into  ice.  So  followed  the 
glacier  period.  That  was  the  time  when  Alaska  really 
was  the  ice-bound  region  which  popular  repute  sup- 
poses it  to  be  at  this  day.  Now,  the  climate  again 
is  becoming  warmer  from  the  same  old  cause — in- 
ternal heat.  Springs  that  come  from  the  ground  in 
that  part  of  Alaska  do  not  freeze  in  winter.  Rivers 
overflow  and  glaciers  are  rapidly  receding,  as  the 
many  old  moraines  indicate. 

These  great  changes  in  the  north  are  compara- 
tively of  recent  date,  only  a  few  thousand  years  ago, 
— yesterday,  to  a  geologist;  for  the  rocks  are  still 
black  from  the  effects  of  volcanic  fires,  and  here  is 
the  charred  wood. 

Many  times  has  this  old  planet  been  darkened 


196       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

by  volcanic  ashes  and  smoke.  In  B.  C.  45  the  sun 
shone  pale  on  southern  Europe  for  a  whole  year. 
A.  D.  536  little  sunlight  was  seen  for  a  whole  year 
and  two  months  (Georgius  Dynast,  p.  94). 

In  A.  D.  567,  "  In  the  second  year  of  the  reign 
of  Justinian  II.,  there  appeared  a  flame  of  fire  in 
the  heavens  near  the  north  pole,  and  remained  there 
for  a  whole  year;  darkness  was  cast  over  the  world 
from  3  o'clock  till  night,  so  that  nothing  could  be 
seen;  and  something  resembling  dust  and  ashes  fell 
down  from  the  sky."     (Abu'l  Farag,  p.  95.) 

The  history  of  Portugal  claims  that  that  country 
was  without  sunlight  for  two  months  In  A.  D.  934. 

In  A.  D.  1547  the  sun  appeared  in  some  parts 
of  the  planet  for  three  days  as  if  suffused  with  blood. 
On  May  19,  1780,  the  settled  portions  of  North 
America  experienced  darkness  from  10:30  A.  M. 
until  midnight.  The  sea  and  the  rivers  were  covered 
to  the  depth  of  four  Inches  with  a  black,  sooty  scum. 
These  conditions  were  surely  caused,  not  by  other 
planets,  as  we  are  too  ready  to  assume,  but  by  vol- 
canic convulsions  of  this  old  earth  of  ours.  From 
the  standpoint  of  a  lay  mind  it  appears  to  me  that 
meteors  might  have  the  same  origin;  that  Is,  they 
might  be  shooting  from  our  great  Polar  volcanic 
guns,  and  according  to  the  natural  law  that  every- 
thing which  goes  up  must  come  down,  they  return 
to  earth.  We  are  not  rubbing  noses  with  other 
planets,   and  attracting  from  them  pieces  of  their 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        197 

wearing  apparel;  and  if  we  were  attracting  meteors 
from  other  planets,  the  law  of  the  Divine  Purpose 
would  be  upset  and  we  should  be  attracting  the 
planets  themselves.  I  do  not  know  this,  but  I  do 
know  that  scientists  advance  by  way  of  a  whole  cata- 
logue of  mistakes — at  least,  such  is  history! 

Then,  too,  that  other  theory  that  appears  to  me 
to  be  an  axiom,  concerning  the  rotation  of  the  earth. 
.We  are  confronted  by  the  fact  that  if  water  be  poured 
on  a  grindstone,  or  a  sphere,  while  that  sphere  Is 
being  turned  eastward,  the  centrifugal  force  will 
cause  the  water  to  travel  westward.  It  appears  to 
me  not  only  reasonable  but  an  axiomatic  fact  that 
the  same  law  must  exist  throughout  all  creation.  If 
so,  it  is  a  reasonable  answer  for  the  question:  Why 
are  the  fisheries  washing  away  on  the  Atlantic  coast 
and  the  ocean's  waters  receding  on  the  Pacific  coast? 

Captain  Foxen  beached  his  boat  on  the  coast  of 
California  In  1832,  and  It  now  Is  far  inland  and 
above  sea  level.  It  also  looks  probable  that  the  great 
Salt  Lake  is  a  pool  of  the  ocean  water  that  was  left 
in  a  basin,  and  that  this  through  evaporation  Is  be- 
coming more  saline  and  will  eventually  disappear. 
If  this  theory  should  be  true,  then  the  rotation,  with 
external  attraction,  does  cause  a  circumvolution  of 
the  waters,  and  In  a  great  cycle  of  time  history  will 
repeat  Itself  regardless  of  local  upheavals. 

There  are  in  California  thousand  of  tons  of  sea- 
shells  on  the  tops  of  high  mountains,  and  in  other 


198       Trailing   and   Caijiping  in   Alaska 

places  there  are  bones  of  animals,  sixty  feet  beneath 
the  surface.  This  supports  the  theory  that  old  ocean 
has  rolled  between  the  dry-land  periods,  and  that 
gigantic,  mammals  performed  on  the  stage  prior  to 
the  last  circumvolution  of  the  waters. 

That  does  not,  however,  in  any  way  disprove  the 
fact  that  the  earth's  crust  contracts  and  wrinkles, 
depresses  and  upheaves;  for  our  old  balloon  will 
continue  to  do  that  until  she  becomes  so  near  a  solid 
that  she  drops  in  line  as  a  secondary  planet,  a 
moon  for  some  other  planet,  or  else  she  will  drop 
into  the  sun  to  furnish  light  and  warmth  to  heav- 
enly constellations.  Neither  does  it  conflict  with  the 
approaching  theory  that  the  earth  possesses  another 
rotation,  which,  in  time,  changes  the  locations  of  the 
poles. 

If  this  theory  of  water  movement  be  correct,  then 
the  complete  circuit  of  the  waters  might  cause  a 
geological  period,  but  the  mind  of  man  even  then 
could  not  ascertain  the  chronology,  as  our  history 
does  not  compose  a  unit,  or  one  period.  If  this  be 
true,  the  time  will  come  when  the  Mississippi  val- 
ley will  be  an  inland  sea,  and  Oceanica  a  vast  con- 
tinent. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

A  porcupine  is  not  so  stupid  as  fnany  zvill  assume,  but 
fairly  bristles  with  pointed  factSj  sharp  realities  and  pene- 
trating truths. 

Would-be  prospectors  have  gone  to  Alaska  with 
a  book  under  one  arm,  and  a  package  of  geological 
phrases  under  the  other,  but  they  could  not  recognize 
a  mine  If  they  camped  on  It  for  a  month.  We  fell 
into  company  with  a  doctor,  who  had  worked  him- 
self over  Into  a  prospector,  and  he  could  Interest 
you  for  hours,  talking  about  "  petrified  schist  and 
mortified  greenstone."  He  would  sit  around  the 
campfire  and  make  ridiculous  anatomical  diagnoses 
of  all  the  mineral  ledges  within  sight  of  the  place. 
Although  he  was  a  voluble  theorist  he  sadly  needed 
experience. 

He  shot  the  first  porcupine  he  encountered  at  a 
distance  of  forty  yards,  and  after  shooting  it  three 
times,  he  walked  up  until  only  a  few  feet  away  from 
it  and,  discovering  Its  eyes  to  be  open,  blew  off  Its 
head.  When  encountering  the  next  one,  he  ven- 
tured much  nearer,  and  the  third  one  he  knocked  In 
the  head  with  a  club.  He  then  discovered  that  they 
always  had  their  eyes  open — even  when  dead — and 
remarking  something  about  the  first  one  having  Im- 

199 


200       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

posed  a  trick  upon  him,  he  proceeded  to  Interest  him- 
self In  porcupines. 

He  said  that  they  were  not  game  enough  to  shoot, 
and  finally  Insisted  that  such  sluggish  animals  should 
not  be  harmed  at  all.  He  also  discovered  that  one 
who  killed  a  porcupine  with  the  Intention  of  getting 
a  sirloin  steak  would  be  disappointed, — for  they 
didn't  have  any  sirloin  to  speak  of.  He  picked  up 
a  half-grown  one  by  the  back  of  Its  neck  and  brought 
it  into  camp  to  make  a  pet  of  It.  He  did  not  know 
that  the  youthful  porcupine  could  be  so  easily  satis- 
fied, as  they  are  naturally  very  tame.  During  the 
cool  part  of  the  night  the  porcupine  crawled  Into 
bed  beside  his  benefactor.  The  doctor  slept  In  a 
nude  condition,  with  the  exception  of  bed-covering, 
for  the  purpose,  as  he  expressed  It,  of  "  exuding 
corporeal  effluvium." 

During  the  restless  sleep  of  the  M.  D.  the  poor 
porcupine  was  compelled  evidently  to  act  on  the  de- 
fensive to  prevent  his  being  crushed.  I  do  not  say 
that  the  doctor  sat  down  on  the  porcupine,  but  one 
might  infer  he  did,  If  one  judged  by  the  locality  In 
which  the  quills  were  inserted.  The  way  that  M.  D. 
danced  around  our  campfire  like  a  wild  Indian  and 
called  for  help,  at  the  dead  hour  of  midnight,  was 
Interesting  and  amusing.  As  he  danced  and  pleaded 
I  asked: 

*'  Where  did  you  see  them  do  that?  " 

*' See  whom  do  what?" 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        201 

"  The  Indians." 

"  Why,  confound  your  idiotic  brain  I  Do  you  im- 
agine Indians  shot  all  these  arrows  into  me?  I  tell 
you,  it  was  that  infernal  porcupine !  Do  you  under- 
stand? Now,  go  and  get  a  small  pair  of  forceps 
out  of  my  clothes-bag  and  get  to  work!" 

"  But,  doctor!  You  said  you  brought  these  along 
for  the  purpose  of  pulling  teeth!  It  would  be  un- 
professional to  allow  them  to  be  used  for  any  such 
base  purposes !  " 

"  Get  those  forceps,  I  tell  you !  " 

"Oh,  well,  I'll  get  them  if  you  insist;  but  if  you 
are  patient  and  will  wait,  those  quills  will  work  out 
in  front  of  themselves  in  a  day  or  two.  It  is  as- 
tonishing how  they  will  travel  through  a  patient  per- 
son." 

"  Did  you  hear  my  commands?  " 

"  Certainly,  doctor,  but  had  you  not  better  sit 
down  while  the  search  is  being  made?  " 

"  Sit  down !  Me  sit  down  in  this  condition ! 
Say " 

Then  because  of  the  doctor's  dangerous  irresponsi- 
bility and  his  threatening  attitude,  the  search  was 
made.  It  was  somewhat  prolonged,  because  of  the 
agitated  earnestness  with  which  the  doctor  expressed 
himself.  He  appeared  to  be  deeply  affected  below 
the  surface,  for  otherwise,  the  mosquitoes  which  cov- 
ered his  naked  body  would  have  monopolized  his 
attention. 


202        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

The  forceps  were  found,  but  it  was  necessary  to 
build  a  large  fire  to  have  sufficient  light,  and  the  doc- 
tor complained  about  that,  too;  said  I  was  too  blamed 
particular.  Whenever  he  was  relieved  of  a  quill 
and  some  accompanying  blood,  he  would  act  fran- 
tic and  ridiculous,  and  jump  up  in  the  air,  in  such  a 
way,  that  if  a  flashlight  picture  of  the  scene  were  in- 
troduced in  this  narrative,  it  would  ruin  the  pub- 
lishers. Several  times  during  the  night,  after  this 
accident  happened,  the  doctor  awakened  me  and 
asked  if  I  were  really  laughing  or  only  snoring. 

From  the  high  hills  beyond  the  Gokona  we  could 
look  down  westward  to  where  a  stream  of  water 
came  out  from  beneath  a  glacier,  and  parted  half  a 
mile  below  there,  one  branch  going  to  the  westward 
where  it  appeared  to  turn  northward  through  the 
mountain  range ;  while  the  other  continued  a  south- 
erly course  into  a  lake.  From  thence  the  outlet  could 
be  seen  to  continue  towards  Copper  River.  That 
silvery  thread  appeared  to  be  at  our  feet,  but  was 
in  reality  three  miles  away.  From  information  pre- 
viously given  to  us  by  the  Indians,  we  knew  it  to  be 
the  source  of  the  Gulkana  River;  but  what  was  that 
other  prong,  and  where  was  it  leading?  Was  that 
glacier  the  source  of  two  distinct  rivers,  the  mother 
of  twins? 

We  descended  to  that  remarkable  place  and 
camped  among  the  trees,  luxuriant  bunch-grass  and 
millions  of  mosquitoes.     The  mosquitoes  were  not 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       203 


counted — just  conservatively  estimated  at  that  num- 
ber.    As  no  horse-tracks  were   found,   and  as  the 
Griffith  party,  from  Cook  Inlet,  had  passed  south 
of  that  place  the  year  before,  it  was  evident  that  we 
were  the  discoverers  of  the  source  of  twin  rivers,  an- 
other one  of  Alaska's  curiosities.     We  spent  three 
days  exploring  down  the  other  fork,  and  found  that 
it  did  pass  back  through  the  mountains  to  the  Tan- 
ana.    This  water  coming  from  one  glacier  on  the  side 
of  a  rough  mountain  range,  and  then  separating  half 
a  mile  below,  was  a  peculiar  freak.     It  made  it  pos- 
sible for  a  salmon  to  ascend  the  Copper,  then  the  Gul- 
kana,  through  the  lakes  to  this  place,  and  then  de- 
scend this  river  to  the  Tanana,  Yukon  and  so  on  to 
Behring  sea.     It  would  cause  him  to  hustle  to  arrive 
back  at  the  mouth  of  the  Copper  in  time  for  another 
season's  run.   As  it  would  mean  that  he  had  crossed 
through  two  mountain  ranges  and  traveled  about  six 
thousand  miles  to  do  that,  it  would  require  a  fish 
with  ambition  to  undertake  the  task.  It  is  a  fact  that 
when  we  were  there,  a  canoe  could  have  been  floated 
from  the  waters  of  the  Copper  to  that  of  the  Yukon. 
Down  this  river,  where  it  was  joined  by  a  larger 
one  from  the  west,  we  found  several  old  horse  tracks, 
among  them  being  one  mule  track.     That  solved 
the  riddle!    This  was  the  Delta  River,  which  Lieu- 
tenant Castner  had  descended  the  year  before,  on 
his  way  from  the  Cook  Inlet  to  the  Yukon.     They 
had  nearly  starved,   and  had  killed  and  eaten  the 


204        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

mule  which  had  made  those  tracks;  and  even  then, 
they  certainly  would  have  perished  if  the  Indians 
had  not  assisted  them. 

With  due  respect  to  Mr.  Castner,  it  may  be  said 
that  he  was  not  the  proper  kind  of  a  man  to  send  on 
such  a  trip.  His  dictatorial  manner  caused  the  In- 
dians to  disrespect  him,  and  invited  deception  on 
their  part.  From  his  own  report,  it  is  a  wonder 
that  they  did  not  destroy  his  party.  Such  leaders 
of  expeditions  only  make  it  dangerous  for  the  lone 
prospectors  who  are  at  the  mercy  of  the  natives. 

We  had  run  completely  out  of  provisions,  even  salt, 
and  were  living  on  what  birds  we  could  kill.  We 
returned  by  ascending  the  east  fork,  and  about  a 
mile  south  of  the  turn  we  camped  by  a  lake.  There 
the  ptarmigan  were  cackling  in  the  tall  bunch-grass, 
and  ducks  were  swimming  on  the  quiet  water.  Down 
the  beach  of  the  lake  came  a  brown  sllvertip  grizzly; 
he  would  whine  and  fight  mosquitoes,  wade  out  into 
the  lake,  drop  down  into  the  water  and  then  gallop 
out  and  shake  himself,  making  the  water  fly  in  all 
directions  from  his  shaggy  coat. 

I  quietly  slipped  down  to  the  shore  of  the  outlet, 
which  was  about  lOO  feet  wide,  and  secreted  myself 
there,  to  await  his  coming  down  along  the  opposite 
shore.  I  desired  to  get  his  picture,  for  the  light  was 
just  right,  the  lake  scene  was  most  beautiful  and  the 
spruce  trees  bordering  it  made  the  landscape  all  that 
could  be  desired.     He  came  and  stood  just  where 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       205 

I  wanted  him,  but  unfortunately  the  kodak  had  been 
broken  during  the  day  and  it  failed  to  snap.  Fail- 
ing to  get  the  picture,  I  decided  to  kill  him  and  take 
the  meat  to  Slate  Creek,  as  the  miners  were  in  need 
of  it  and  we  had  five  loose  horses  with  nothing 
to  carry. 

I  gave  him  a  mortal  shot,  one  that  would  have 
caused  a  deer  to  make  a  few  jumps  and  fall  over 
dead.  The  ball  ranged  through  the  heart  cavity, 
and  shattered  the  liver  into  pieces.  The  bear  sprang 
into  the  air,  fell,  rolled  over  and  over,  bit  the  bullet 
hole,  and  ran  into  some  brush,  which  he  fought  with 
desperation. 

Again  he  appeared  on  the  beach  of  the  outlet, 
where  I  gave  him  another  shot,  and  the  same  per- 
formance was  repeated.  He  fought  the  brush  and 
rocks,  and  his  squalls  and  growls  were  exceedingly 
loud.  He  ascended  a  knoll,  stood  on  his  hind  feet 
and  looked  around,  whereupon  he  received  his  last 
fatal  shot,  and  rolled  over — dead;  thinking,  no 
doubt,  that  those  were  the  worst  mosquitoes  he  had 
ever  encountered. 

We  swam  our  horses  across  the  outlet  and  vainly 
tried  to  procure  a  picture  of  him.  We  had  lost  the 
opportunity  of  a  lifetime: — to  get  a  picture  of  a 
grizzly  bear  before  and  after  being  killed. 

The  next  day  we  loaded  Bruin  on  our  pack-horses 
and  moved  back  towards  Slate  Creek.  We  camped 
on  a  clear  stream  emptying  into  what  we  named 


206       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

Summit  Lake,  on  the  east  fork  of  the  Gulkana. 
That  stream  was  red  with  salmon,  droves  of  them — 
for  they  could  be  driven — on  every  riffle.  Just  be- 
fore we  concluded  to  camp,  it  had  just  been  remarked 
that  this  was  an  ideal  place  for  bear,  when  across 
the  water  with  a  plunge  and  a  splash,  and  up  the 
hillside  with  a  gallop  and  a  snort,  bounded  a  huge 
grizzly.  He  stopped  about  one  hundred  yards  away, 
and  gazed  down  with  the  look  of  the  supreme  mon- 
arch that  he  was. 

With  a  resolve  to  take  all  of  the  fresh  meat  that 
came  our  way,  I  sent  a  bullet  crashing  through  his 
heart  cavity.  He  fell,  rolled  and  bellowed,  then 
came  for  us  like  a  whirlwind.  Another  ball  en- 
tered between  his  shoulders  and  neck,  and  the  per- 
formance was  repeated.  Again  he  came  on,  and  a 
third  shot  shattered  his  neck,  so  that  he  piled  up 
In  a  heap,  just  forty-three  steps  away. 

My  companion  remarked  that  as  there  would  only 
have  been  time  enough  to  have  got  in  one  more  shot, 
and  as  he  had  no  gun,  and  we  were  fifteen  miles 
from  timber,  It  would  have  been  interesting  to  know 
just  what  I  had  intended  doing  in  case  I  had  failed 
to  kill  the  bear.  After  a  little  reflection,  I  made 
the  resolve  never  to  shoot  a  bear  when  he  was  look- 
ing at  me.  That  resolution,  however,  was  com- 
pletely broken  about  a  month  later.  We  camped 
right  there  and  dined  on  speckled  trout  In  preference 
to  bear  or  salmon. 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       207 


While  my  companion  was  looking  for  the  horses 
the  next  morning,  he  killed  something,  which  he  said, 
if  It  were  not  for  its  horns,  he  would  have  called  a 
mule.  Investigation  proved  It  to  be  a  fat  caribou. 
The  meat  of  a  two-year-old  caribou  Is  about  the 
sweetest,  tenderest  and  most  toothsome  of  all  the 
wild  animals. 

In  possession  of  all  the  meat  we  desired,  we  started 
for  Slate  Creek.  The  salmon  were  so  plentiful  that 
the  temptation  to  kill  a  few  of  them  could  not  be 
resisted.  I  shot  four,  and  tied  them  to  my  saddle- 
strings.  Their  tails  reached  down  to  my  horse's 
flanks,  and  soon  they  began  to  flop.  It  appeared  to 
me  that  the  saddle-horse  bucked  over  forty  acres  of 
ground,  while  our  lltde  dog  Pete  seemed  to  enjoy  the 
show  more  than  anybody. 

The  joke  was  turned  on  him  shortly  afterwards, 
however,  when  a  bear  was  seen  standing  on  a  nar- 
row Island  In  the  middle  of  the  stream,  eating  sal- 
mon. As  the  water  was  making  a  great  noise,  and 
the  wind  was  squarely  across  the  river,  neither  bear 
nor  dog  knew  of  the  other's  presence  until  a  collision 
was  on.  Pete  fell  backwards  and  jumped  off  into 
the  water,  while  the  bear  plunged  In  on  the  other 
side.  When  Pete  struck  the  water  he  was  looking 
back  towards  the  bear.  Later,  when  we  were  In 
camp,  he  showed  almost  human  humiliation,  when 
being  joked  about  that  bear  Incident. 

We  arrived  at  Slate  Creek,  after  a  cold  ride,  in  a 


208        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

drenching  rain.  There  I  employed  another  com- 
panion to  assist  in  exploring  the  head-waters  of  the 
Tanana.  Our  supplies,  which  had  been  cached  under 
the  shelter  of  some  large  spruce  trees,  at  Mencomen 
Lake,  were  undisturbed.  Many  times  have  I  slept 
on  the  dry  ground  beneath  the  boughs  of  a  spruce 
tree,  while  it  rained  outside. 

At  Mentasta  Lake  there  came  into  camp  an  Indian 
boy,   who  said  he  had  never  worn  shoes   or  even 
moccasins.     When  asked  what  he  would  do  when 
the  snow  came,  he  replied: 
"  Go  all  same — no  shoes." 
**  But  hiyu  snow,  may-be-so  you  die !  " 
"Ha-lo!     Bear  he  no  got  shoes,  he  no  die." 
This  boy  described  for  us  the  trail  to  Suslota,  and 
following  it  we  nearly  drowned  a  horse.     From  Sus- 
lota we  crossed  to  the  head-waters  of  Little  Tokio 
River,    thence   over   high    glacier   moraines    at    the 
head-waters  of  the  Hoolana.     This  was  the  place 
Captain    West    had    told    his    men    he    had  found 
his  gold ; — the  mud-glaciers  are  here  as  he  described, 
but  not  the  gold.     We  crossed  these  to  the  head  of 
Lost  Creek  sometimes  called  Jack  Creek. 

At  the  source  of  Little  Tokio  I  picked  from  a 
bank  of  what  appeared  to  be  slate  a  short  rib  of 
some  large  animal.  In  Its  petrified  condition,  it  had 
retained  its  shape  and  grain,  although  the  substance 
was  a  hard,  slatish  material.  I  retain  that  curiosity 
in  my  possession,  and  no  one  can  dispute  the  fact 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       209 


that  It  was  once  a  rib-bone  of  some  animal.  How 
long  It  took  for  the  lime  to  dissolve,  and  the  struc- 
ture to  absorb  the  earthy  matter,  no  one  can  say. 

Rock,  like  everything  else  on  earth,  grows,  lives 
and  dies.  I  once  knew  of  a  rock  when  It  was  a  bunch 
of  clay  on  a  bar  of  the  Santa  Maria  River  In  Cali- 
fornia, for  It  had  been  deposited  there  during  a 
freshet  In  1884.  Evidently  It  contained  the  ele- 
ments that  enabled  It  to  solidify  rapidly,  for  In  four- 
teen years  It  had  become  a  hard,  solid  sandstone. 

I  had  a  friend  whose  great  hobby  was  geology, 
and  he  was  so  affected  by  the  study  that  he  would 
daydream  about  It,  talking  for  hours  about  the  dif- 
ferent ages.  I  furnished  the  team  for  his  company 
for  a  twenty-five-mile  drive,  just  to  hear  him  dilate 
on  that  rock.  I  admired  him  because  he  knew  more 
than  most  other  people.  He  looked  wise  as  he  ap- 
proached the  monument  when  It  was  pointed  out, 
and  the  longer  he  looked,  the  wiser  he  appeared. 
After  he  had  broken  off  a  piece,  he  gave  me  the 
startling  Information  that  it  was  not  Potsdam  sand- 
stone. Now  I  didn't  know  Potsdam  sandstone  from 
any  other  dam  sandstone,  but  he  continued  to  employ 
unlimited  profanity  of  the  character  indicated  while 
dilating  about  that  rock.  He  displayed  so  much 
wisdom  that  It  required  an  effort  for  me  to  ask  the 
Important  question  which  I  had  come  so  far  to  pro- 
pound. 

When  he  had  finished  the  lecture,  I  asked  timidly 


210       Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

about  the  age  of  It,  and  he  gave  it  unhesitatingly  as 
several  thousands  of  years!  There — I  had  known 
of  that  rock  from  the  time  it  was  a  soft  mass  through 
which  one  could  run  a  sharp  stick,  or  could  cut  down 
with  a  hatchet  in  two  minutes. 

I  was  speechless !  Reincarnation  had  been  proved, 
for  evidently  I  had  lived  thousands  of  years  before, 
and  what  I  had  seen  and  forgotten  was  beyond 
comprehension ! 

We  descended  Jack  Creek  and  found  an  abun- 
dance of  good  feed  for  our  horses.  Sheep  trails 
could  be  seen  on  the  mountain  sides.  This  creek 
empties  into  the  Nabesna,  a  tributary  of  the  Tanana 
River. 

iWe  were  riding  down  along  the  bank  of  that 
stream  In  a  leisurely  fashion  when  we  discovered 
a  grizzly  cub  approaching  In  the  creek  bottom. 
While  hiding  until  he  had  become  directly  below, 
about  thirty  feet  away,  I  was  surprised  by  a  snort 
from  another,  on  top  of  the  bank  and  only  a  few 
yards  from  me.  He  ran  and  was  not  shot  at,  because 
It  was  supposed  that  the  other  one  was  at  a  greater 
disadvantage  below.  On  looking  over  the  bank,  we 
discovered  that  he  had  heard  the  warning  snort  of 
his  companion,  and  was  now  three  hundred  yards 
away  and  running  his  very  best.  We  had  no  bear 
meat  for  that  night's  supper. 

I  spent  the  next  day,  August  27,  in  securing  two 
mountain  goats.  Our  supplies  were  running  short, 
and  It  was  necessary  to  have  fresh  meat.     Fifteen 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       211 

were  taking  their  noon-day  rest  on  the  summit  of  a 
high  ridge,  where  it  was  difficult  to  distinguish  them 
from  the  small  patches  of  snow  in  their  vicinity. 

With  Pete  at  my  heels  I  crept  for  half  a  day  along 
the  high  precipices,  and  at  last  peeped  over  one  of 
them,  only  to  discover  that  the  goats  were  out  of 
range,  and  commanding  a  good  view  of  their  sur- 
roundings. Straight  across  a  deep  chasm  were 
three  that  had  ventured  away  from  the  rest  to  feed. 
They  were  two  hundred  and  fifty  yards  away,  at 
least,  and  under  ordinary  circumstances  it  would  be 
foolish  to  try  for  them  at  such  a  great  distance,  but 
we  were  out  of  meat. 

If  a  ball  struck  below  them,  they  would  dodge 
over  the  ridge  and  be  out  of  sight  before  another 
shot  could  be  placed  intelligently.  If  shots  were 
placed  above  them,  they  would  probably  remain  until 
the  range  was  found.  That  plan  was  worked  for 
three  shots,  dropping  a  little  lower  each  time,  and 
the  third  shot  tumbled  one  of  them  over.  The 
fourth  shot  caught  another  as  he  was  crossing  the 
ridge.  The  afternoon  was  spent  rolling  those  goats 
down  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  where  Dashiell 
came  and  assisted  in  carrying  them  into  camp. 

We  moved  down  to  timber,  in  the  divide  between 
the  Copper  and  the  Nabesna  Rivers,  and  camped  by 
a  beautiful  lake.  There  my  brother  made  "  jerkey  " 
and  dressed  skins,  while  Dashiell  and  I  explored  to 
the  Nabesna  River. 


CHAPTER    XVII 

A  grizzly  bears  rapid  approach,  with  blood  streaming 
from  his  mouth,  jaws  clapping,  and  nostrils  snorting,  gen- 
erally acts  as  a  powerful  stimulant  to  the  body  of  a  man. 

On  September  3,  1900,  when  my  body  was 
walking  about  seventy  yards  in  front  of  the  pack- 
train  (my  thoughts  were  down  in  the  States,  and  I 
was  in  a  half-witted  mood),  a  brown  silvertip 
grizzly  rushed  up  out  of  the  small  creek.  He  as- 
cended the  mountain-side,  stopped  about  one  hundred 
and  thirty  yards  away  and  turned  broadside.  There 
was  but  one  load  in  my  44,  and  we  were  not  in  the 
need  of  bear  meat,  but  in  my  heedless,  mental  aban- 
don, I  deliberately  placed  a  hard  bullet  behind  his 
shoulders. 

He  rolled  over,  bawled,  and  performed  the  other 
usual  preliminaries,  and  then  turned  his  attention  in 
my  direction  at  a  rate  that  indicated  a  final  settle- 
ment in  about  nine  seconds.  When  I  twice  snapped 
my  revolver,  the  truthfulness  as  well  as  the  awful- 
ness  of  my  mistake  dawned — no,  it  broke  in  upon 
me  with  startling  suddenness.  I  desired  very  much 
to  explain  and  apologize,  but  as  that  bear  was  half- 
way down  the  hill,  and  his  jaw-clapping  indicated  a 
ruffled  disposition,  my  legs  positively  refused  to  re- 

212 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       213 

main  there;  and  besides,  I  felt  that  they  needed  ex- 
ercising. 

At  once  I  discovered  that  I  was  a  remarkably 
good  starter  in  a  foot  race.  My  hat  was  left  where 
it  indicated  the  starting-place  very  accurately,  and  I 
should  not  have  stopped  to  pick  it  up  if  it  had  been 
filled  with  gold.  I  directed  my  course  for  the  Na- 
besna  River,  about  fourteen  miles  away,  and  planned 
to  run  by  the  pack-train  so  that  my  partner  would 
know  the  direction  I  was  traveling,  and  so  also  that 
he  might  cover  the  retreat  with  his  30-30  rifle. 
There  were  no  trees  to  climb  and  I  had  no  time  to 
cHmb  one  even  if  a  hundred  had  been  there.  I  made 
several  steps  in  the  air  to  one  on  the  ground,  because 
I  was  trying  to  make  schedule  time,  and  had  the 
brakes  off  and  full  steam  turned  on.  All  the  re- 
served energy  that  had  been  stored  for  years  made 
itself  manifest  on  that  particular  occasion. 

There  was  an  open  flat  about  six  jumps  ahead  of 
me — a  distance  that  is  much  greater  than  the  reader 
may  imagine — and  I  felt  intuitively  that  right  there 
the  bear  would  familiarize  himself  with  the  seat  of 
my  trousers.  As  the  bear  was  running  at  an  angle 
which  would  head  me  off  at  that  point,  and  as  I  was 
interested  in  the  outcome,  I  glanced  over  my  shoulder 
to  see  just  how  it  was  going  to  be  done.  I  then  for- 
tunately observed  that  just  before  reaching  the  place 
of  collision  I  should  pass  a  small  bunch  of  brush,  and 
for  a  moment  we  should  be  out  of  sight  of  each 


214        Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

other.  Right  there,  I  jumped  my  train  off  the  track 
and  rolled  it  down  an  embankment,  while  the  bear 
punctually  arrived  at  the  flat,  only  a  few  yards  away. 

After  pointing  his  nose  upward  and  emitting  a 
loud  snort,  be  became  Interested  in  the  unusual  sight 
of  the  pack-train.  I  bravely  held  my  breath  so  as 
not  to  disturb  his  meditations,  and  when  he  again 
snorted,  my  heart  acted  rudely  and  I  shrank  up  per- 
ceptibly. Vainly  I  listened  for  the  report  of  that 
30-30,  but  the  bear  shuffled  safely  away,  leaving  a 
bloody  trail  up  a  rocky  canyon.  Then  I  straightened 
up  and  walked  to  Dashiell  and  inquired  why  he 
hadn't  shot.  Between  spasms  of  laughter,  he  re- 
plied: 

"  Hang  it  all,  It  wasn't  my  bear-fight !  " 

It  generally  is  supposed  that  a  bear  will  give  chase 
for  only  a  few  jumps,  but  when  the  Pacific  Coast 
grizzly  bear  sees  you,  and  knows  you  have  hurt  him, 
I  know  that  he  will  come  as  far  as  150  yards.  To 
satisfy  some  hunters  who  claimed  that  a  bear  would 
charge  but  a  very  short  distance,  Mr.  Dashiell  made 
his  affidavit  concerning  the  distance  that  this  bear 
gave  chase,  and  It  was  published  afterwards  In  an 
eastern  magazine. 

The  older  a  hunter  becomes,  the  more  respect  he 
has  for  grizzlies.  In  a  lonely  canyon,  in  California, 
in  1884,  I  stood  In  front  of  a  grizzly  for  one  short 
round.  With  one  stroke  he  separated  me  from  my 
memory,  then  counted  me  out  and  walked  away.     If 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       215 

ever  again  I  enter  a  twenty- foot  ring. with  a  grizzly, 
I  want  some  kind  friend  to  bet  all  of  my  money  on 
the  bear. 

We  arrived  at  the  Nabesna  River  on  September 
I,  and  there,  at  an  old  camp-ground,  we  found  a 
grave  having  the  headboard  carved  with  the  name 
of  John  Stehn,  of  Benicia,  California.  The  cir- 
cumstances surrounding  that  fatality  may  be  of  in- 
terest. 

In  the  spring  of  1899,  some  prospectors  had 
sledded  into  that  place,  and  there  had  built  a  boat 
for  the  descent  of  the  Xanana  River.  They  were 
throwing  their  bedding  into  the  boat,  when  a  re- 
volver, which  had  been  placed  carelessly  in  a  clothes- 
bag  with  the  hammer  on  a  cartridge,  was  discharged. 
The  ball  struck  John  Stehn  in  the  neck,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  he  had  bled  to  death. 

Of  course  it  makes  no  difference  to  the  dead  where 
they  are  buried,  but  it  is  not  consoling  to  the  dying 
prospector,  away  in  the  wilds  of  Alaska — with  no 
mother,  sister  or  loved  one  to  smooth  his  brow — to 
know  that  only  the  night  birds  and  little  squirrels 
of  summer,  and  the  bleak  winds  of  winter  are  to  visit 
his  resting-place.  No  wreaths  will  be  laid  there,  but 
the  near-by  spruce  will  moan  a  lonely  requiem  to  the 
dead. 

Where  the  winter  winds  wail 

And  the  sad  spruce  trees  moan, 
At  the  end  of  his  trail 

There,  he  sleeps  all  alone. 


!216        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

The  prospectors  continued  their  journey  down  to 
the  Indian  village  of  Tetling,  where  the  little  son  of 
the  chief  was  given  the  same  deadly  revolver.  The 
little  fellow  dropped  it,  and  again  it  was  discharged, 
but  this  time  his  mother  dropped  dead.  The  man 
who  had  given  the  weapon  to  the  boy  made  his 
escape  during  the  excitement,  but  the  Indians  searched 
everywhere  for  him,  and  to  this  day,  if  they  could 
find  him,  his  life  would  pay  the  forfeit.  Park  Gris- 
wald  and  two  other  prospectors  whip-sawed  the  lum- 
ber, and  with  their  tools  made  a  crude  coffin,  consol- 
ing the  chief  thereby,  and  insuring  their  own  safety. 

At  the  source  of  the  Nabesna  River  were  some 
nuggets  of  native  copper,  and  in  places  there  were 
large  porous  boulders  with  small  holes,  showing 
where  the  metal  had  evidently  been  melted  from 
them.  The  pumice  stone  found,  indicated  that  at 
one  time  volcanic  heat  had  been  excessive  in  that 
locality.  Moreover,  a  considerable  quantity  of  vol- 
canic ashes  from  the  crater  of  Wrangell,  had  been 
spread  over  the  country  recently  by  the  wind.  This 
Wrangell  (Unaletta)  crater  is  a  geyser-covered  area 
where  the  melting  snows  send  their  water  down  into 
the  internal  heat  to  return  it  as  steam  jets  that  float 
off  upon  the  wind  as  clouds  of  vapor.  Not  always 
is  It  thus,  however ;  at  times,  great  volumes  of  smoke 
are  sent  heavenward,  accompanied  by  white,  light 
ashes  that  the  winds  scatter  over  the  upper  valleys 
of  the  Tanana,  White  and  Copper  Rivers. 


Trailing   and   Camping  in  Alaska       217 

It  was  now  time  that  we  were  taking  our  horses 
out  of  the  high  altitudes,  so  we  returned  to  **  Goat 
Camp,"  on  the  divide.  From  the  outlet  of  the  lake 
on  the  summit,  Dashiell  caught  a  great  number  of 
trout.  There  we  experienced  the  first  snow-fall  of 
the  season.  In  1898  it  fell  on  September  12,  in 
1899,  on  September  14,  and  this  year  on  Septem- 
ber 5.  Those  first  snows  disappear,  usually,  in 
twenty-four  hours. 

We  traveled  a  northwesterly  direction  towards 
Suslota  Lake,  along  the  foot  of  the  mountain  range 
where  Lake  Tanada  could  be  seen  to  the  westward. 
From  that  point  we  could  look  down  on  the  Copper 
Valley,  with  its  silvery  threads  of  water,  its  medals 
of  lakes,  and  its  golden  badges  of  cottonwood,  quak- 
ing asp  and  birch.  We  traveled  along  birch  ridges 
where  magpies  flew  ahead  and  announced  our  com- 
ing, just  as  the  bluejays  do  in  the  forests  of  the 
south.  Occasionally  a  moose  or  bear  track  was  seen, 
but  large  game  was  scarce.  The  hillsides  were  cov- 
ered with  moss  berries.  The  manzanita  (little  ap- 
ple), which  grows  twelve  feet  high  in  California, 
was  here  only  a  moss,  but  the  berries  were  just  as 
large  as  in  the  southern  climes.  The  juniper,  used 
for  fence-posts  in  other  places,  had  also  degenerated 
here  into  a  moss  from  which  possibly  toothpicks 
could  be  cut,  although  the  berries  also  were  of  the 
usual  size. 

We  arrived  at  Suslota  Lake  on  the  fifth  day  after 


218       Trailing   and  'Camping  in   Alaska 

we  left  the  divide.  The  outlet  of  that  lake  was  a 
wiggling  mass  of  salmon.  This  lake  has  derived  its 
name  from  a  family  of  Indians  by  the  name  of  Sus- 
lota.  They  may  have  descended  possibly  from  the 
Ainus  of  Japan,  as  they  differ  from  the  other  Indians 
by  wearing  heavy  beards.  They  have  bushy  hair, 
are  very  tall  and  most  intelligent.  They  possess  no 
family  history,  only  that  they  were  different  from  the 
other  Indians.  Suslota  John,  who  lives  at  that  lake, 
and  Eselota,  who  lives  one  hundred  miles  down  the 
Copper  River,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Tonsina,  are  the 
only  men  now  living  of  that  wonderful  tribe.  Each 
of  these  men  is  six  feet  tall.  Eselota  had  come  up 
there  eight  years  before,  and,  although  sixty  years 
old,  had  married  a  fifteen-year-old  granddaughter  of 
Suslota.  The  picture  here  represents  Eselota  and 
his  family.  His  wife,  the  granddaughter  of  Suslota 
John,  stands  at  his  right,  with  their  little  girl  in 
front.  The  one  at  his  left  is  a  daughter  by  his  first 
wife. 

Chief  Ewan,  of  the  Gulkanas,  told  me  that  his 
father  said  the  Suslotas  once  talked  a  different  lan- 
guage. He  said  Mentasta  John  was  a  half-Suslota 
Indian,  and  that  Chief  Stickman's  first  wife  was  also 
half-Suslota.  Younger  Indians,  however,  laugh  at 
the  idea,  and  think  they  are  the  same  Indians  as  the 
others.  Suslota  John  told  me  that  he  was  born  on 
the  shore  of  this  lake,  as  was  his  father,  and  also 
his  grandfather.    He  married  a  Tanana  squaw,  and 


Esclota  and  His  Family. 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska        219 

had  seventeen  children  and  grandchildren.  These 
Indians  make  a  strong  bow  they  call  "  chingah " 
(rabbit  gun).  A  young  Indian,  Snelkettin,  while 
we  were  there,  killed  a  bear  with  one  of  these  bows. 
He  secreted  himself  beside  the  trail,  and  when  the 
bear  came  along,  he  planted  several  of  the  copper- 
pointed  arrows  near  the  heart. 

When  at  Slate  Creek  I  had  attempted  to  send  a 
worthless  horse  out  to  the  chief  packer,  who  was  at 
Copper  Center,  but  the  man,  instead  of  shooting  the 
beast  when  he  became  exhausted,  according  to  mili- 
tary rule,  abandoned  the  old  "  crow-bait,"  so  that  the 
Board  of  Survey,  at  Fort  Liscum,  sat  on  that  horse — 
his  absence  or  something — and  because  I  could  not 
swear  that  he  was  dead,  very  dignifiedly  charged  me 
eighty  dollars  for  him.  I  did  not  need  a  horse,  espe- 
cially that  one,  and  never  thought,  when  watching 
that  antiquated  equine  deception  fade  in  the  distance, 
that  I  should  have  to  pay  that  price  for  his  carcass, 
with  the  sole  purpose  of  filling  space  in  Alaska's 
atmosphere.  No  doubt,  at  the  time  of  that  purchase, 
the  drifting  snow-flakes  were  playing  hide-and-seek 
among  his  ribs,  but  then,  was  I  not  the  proud  owner 
of  a  horse?  Now,  I  feel  it  most  fortunate  that  I 
did  not  buy  a  good  horse,  for,  at  that  rate,  he  would 
have  cost  me  a  few  thousand  dollars — that  is,  a  com- 
monly good  one  would — for  an  extra  good  one  would 
have  cost  much  more.  I  am  satisfied,  however,  with 
the  shadow  I  bought.    That  incident  caused  the  alii- 


220        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alasha 

gator  to  rise  In  me,  but  time  has  poulticed  the  sore 
place,  and  I  am  satisfied. 

I  had  at  that  time  proved  that  the  Alaskan  Range 
carried  in  its  fastnesses  about  all  of  the  different 
kinds  of  minerals  in  the  catalogue.  Although  I  had 
been  handicapped  by  attending  to  my  duties  as  a 
scout  I  had  gathered  many  samples  of  ore.  One  of 
these  assayed  15  per  cent,  copper  and  $55  in  gold 
per  ton.  Another  $29,  $30  and  $32  in  gold,  lead 
and  silver.  One  extra  sample  of  nearly  pure  silver 
was  obtained  near  what  is  known  as  Cobb  Lake. 
Cinnebar  and  graphite  were  found,  and  also  a  few 
small  ledges  of  free  milling  gold  ore.  The  inaccessi- 
bility of  their  locations  make  them  valueless  at  the 
present  time. 

We  fell  in  with  many  prospectors  who  were  on 
their  way  to  the  coast.  A  prospector  lives  in  winter 
on  a  liberal  mixture  of  hope.  In  summer  he  pros- 
pects until  he  eats  up  all  of  his  provisions  and  then 
returns;  living  too  often  on  snow-balls  and  rabbit 
tracks.  He  then  is  loaded  down  with  rock,  rags  and 
more  hope.  In  their  cabins  they  divide  the  long 
winter  hours  into  slumber  and  wakefulness,  and  when 
awake  no  doubt  lament  the  fact  that  they  have  no 
companions  empowered  with  the  legal  matrimonial 
privilege  of  going  through  their  pockets  when  they 
are  asleep. 

We  arrived  safely  in  Valdez  and  found  the  little 
town  taking  on  metropolitan  airs,  because  a  few  men 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       221 

had  brought  their  wives  and  children  up  there  to  live. 
In  front  of  a  hotel,  a  woman  was  whipping  a  small 
child,  and  when  it  ran  from  her  she  repeated  the  pun- 
ishment, then  slapping  another  one  of  her  children 
for  a  trivial  offense.  There  was  a  man  standing  on 
the  end  of  the  long  porch  and  I  said  to  him: 

"  It  is  only  animal  instinct  in  a  child  to  run  away 
from  that  woman,  because  she  punishes  it  every  time 
she  catches  it.  Such  a  brutal  mother  should  not  be 
allowed  to  raise  her  children,  as  she  is  liable  to  make 
criminals  of  them." 

He  slowly  removed  the  cigar  from  the  aperture  of 
his  face  and  replied: 

"  Well,  sir,  my  experience  with  that  woman's  dis- 
position, while  living  as  her  husband  for  twenty 
years,  impresses  me  with  the  fact  that  if  you  should 
insist  on  giving  her  that  information,  it  would  be  ad- 
visable for  you  to  do  so  over  a  long-distance  tele- 
phone." 

Then  he  deliberately  replaced  his  cigar  while  I 
retreated  to  seclusion,  remarking  that  there  were 
times  when  I  preferred  to  be  alone. 

They  had  installed  a  telephone  service  in  Valdez. 
One  of  the  old-timers  was  so  indifferent  and  sullen 
towards  me  that  I  expected  trouble,  and  was  not  sur- 
prised when  he  challenged  me  to  fight  a  duel  of  one- 
hundred  words  on  that  telephone.  I  delayed  my  an- 
swer to  give  his  nerves  time  to  weaken,  I  fight  duels 
by  proxy,  and  Intended  to  secure  a  stuttering  man  to 


222       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 


stand  up  in  my  stead  in  this  desperate  encounter;  but 
my  antagonist  probably  heard  of  my  intentions,  for 
when  I  accepted,  he  turned  pale  and  disgracefully 
withdrew  his  challenge. 

As  I  was  walking  along  the  street  "  Whiskey  Jim  " 
staggered  from  a  saloon  with  a  badly  bruised  and 
bleeding  face.  As  I  had  not  seen  him  for  nearly  a 
year,  I  inquired  the  cause,  and  he  replied: 

"  Powell,  for  two  years  I  have  been  stinking  for  a 
fight,  and  I'll  be  hanged  if  a  fellow  in  there  didn't 
just  smell  me !  " 

Here,  as  the  hardships  of  the  summer  were  past,  I 
had  only  pleasant  reflections.  I  cannot  understand 
the  narrow  and  contracted  views  of  those  persons 
whose  minds  never  are  allowed  to  expand  beyond  the 
confines  of  such  a  strenuously  congested  mass  of 
misery  as  is  a  city  of  human  beings.  How  could 
Samuel  Johnson  have  known  anything  of  life  when 
he  wrote : 

"  When  a  man  Is  tired  of  London  he  is  tired  of 
life,  for  there  is  in  London  all  there  is  in  life." 

To  my  companions  and  myself,  the  experiences  of 
1900 — the  glaciers,  rivers  and  swamps;  bears,  cari- 
bou and  goat;  the  castellated  peaks  of  the  Suslota, 
the  precipitous  walls  of  the  Hoolana,  and  the  lakes 
in  their  sequestered  solitudes,  were  all  only  delight- 
ful pictures  in  memory's  halls. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

"  Wild  and  wide  are  my  borders,  stern  as  death  is  my  sway. 
And  I  wait  for  the  men  who  will  win  me — and  I  will 
not  be  won  in  a  day ; 
And  I  will  not    be  won  by  weaklings,  subtile,  suave  and 
mild. 
But  by  men  with  hearts  of  vikings,  and  the  simple  faith 
of  a  child." 

R.  W.  Service. 

I  TAKE  exception  to  the  last  words  of  the  third 
line.  How  many  brutal  men  have  bit  the  frontier 
dust  because  they  attempted  to  awe  some  mild-man- 
nered man !  Always  beware  of  the  mild,  polite  man 
who  expresses  regard  for  the  rights  of  others,  for  so 
will  he  defend  his  own.  I  have  seen  a  large  human 
brute  throw  up  his  hands  and,  refusing  to  cross  a 
dangerous  river,  return  home,  while  a  little,  slim 
bundle  of  nerves  remained,  built  a  raft,  crossed  the 
river  and  made  his  fortune.  Nerve,  backed  by  moral- 
ity and  right,  makes  the  man;  and  the  really  brave 
ones  are  those  who  have  the  courage  to  do  right. 

I  withdrew  my  name  from  the  list  of  Deputy  U.  S. 
Surveyors  for  Alaska  to  devote  all  of  my  time  to 
prospecting.  During  the  summer  of  1901,  James 
McCarthy,  "  Colonel  "  Launtz  and  myself  were  des- 

223 


224       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alasha 

tined  to  eat  each  others'  cooking  while  we  explored 
the  head-waters  of  the  Shusitna  River.  We  built 
castles  with  no  other  foundations  than  that  we  were 
going  on  a  strictly  prospecting  trip.  It  is  more 
pleasant  to  build  castles  than  it  is  to  fall  from  their 
dizzy  heights.  I  have  fallen  so  far  that  I  have  been 
astonished  to  find  I  was  the  only  person  who  was 
hurt. 

The  subject  of  falling  suggests  the  incident  of  the 
Swede  who  fell  two  hundred  and  fifty-six  feet  down 
a  Treadwell  shaft  and  was  unhurt.  When  he  was 
helped  out,  he  exclaimed: 

"  I  one  big  yumper!  " 

The  man  who  holds  the  record  for  high  jumping 
at  Treadwell,  however,  was  not  the  Swede,  but  a 
fellow  who  went  up  in  front  of  a  blast  of  giant  pow- 
der, and  of  whom  nothing  came  down  but  a  sus- 
pender buckle.  I  was  told  that  before  the  coroner 
would  sit  on  the  remnant,  he  gave  the  balance  of  the 
remains  an  hour  to  put  in  an  appearance.  My  in- 
former said  that  this  was  an  official  recognition  of  an 
ascent  of  119,873  feet  and  6  inches.  Possibly  this 
may  give  us  an  approximate  idea  of  how  far  one 
may  fall  and  be  killed.  It  is  natural  for  human 
beings  to  fall,  and  has  been  so  since  our  ancestors  fell 
from  grace.  Children  fall  out  of  cradles,  and  later 
out  of  apple  trees,  and  when  cured  of  that,  they  fall 
Into  things,  such  as  love  and  trouble. 

On  our  way  to  the  interior,  I  saw  a  man  attempting 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        225 

to  wade  the  Tekeil  River  with  a  heavy  pack  strapped 
to  his  back.  The  current  washed  him  from  his  foot- 
ing, and,  with  the  pack  holding  him  down,  he  would 
have  drowned  if  I  had  not  ridden  my  saddle  horse  in 
there  and  pulled  him  out.  When  he  recovered,  I 
asked : 

"  Didn't  you  know  better  than  to  go  into  such 
dangerous  water  with  a  heavy  pack  like  that  strapped 
tightly  to  your  back?  " 

"  Well,"  he  answered,  "  I  suspicioned  that  I  had 
made  a  mistake,  just  as  I  began  to  strangle  the  last 
time!" 

We  passed  dozens  of  men  carrying  packs,  who 
were  on  their  way  to  the  Slate  Creek  diggings.  That 
was  two  hundred  miles  away,  but  they  had  heard  that 
gold  was  there,  and  so  they  were  going.  They  could 
not  realize  that  long  before  the  news  had  reached 
civilization,  it  had  been  too  late  to  secure  a  valuable 
claim,  and  that  they  were  just  going  in  there  to  look 
at  other  men's  gold. 

We  found  sleds  by  the  trail,  where  men  had  be- 
come exhausted  at  trying  to  convert  themselves  into 
quadrupeds,  and  had  given  it  up  to  go  and  tell  of 
Alaska's  hardships.  I  once  attempted  to  pull  a  sled, 
but  relinquished  the  intention  with  the  thought  that 
both  industry  and  laziness  are  habits.  However,  I 
once  saw  a  man  make  a  great  start  in  life  by  pulling 
a  sled.  He  started  with  it  down  a  very  steep  moun- 
tain. 


226       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

We  met  an  Indian  whose  squaw  and  dogs  were 
heavily  packed.  When  asked  why  he  did  not  carry 
the  squaw's  pack,  he  replied: 

"  Me  got  em  dog  to  carry  pack;  squaw,  he  no  got 
dog." 

It  was  among  those  mountains  during  the  winter 
of  1898  and  1899  that  a  companion  of  Charley  John- 
son fell  into  the  water  and  became  mortally  chilled. 
Charley  urged  him  to  hurry  to  some  near-by  timber 
where  a  fire  could  be  built,  but  he  said: 

"  Charley,  we  have  safely  weathered  many  storms 
together,  but  now  I  feel  the  final  chill  crawling  up 
to  my  heart,  and  I  know  it  to  be  the  last  I  " 

Then  he  gasped  and  fell  lifeless  to  the  ground. 
Charley  arrived  at  Quartz  Creek,  more  dead  than 
alive.  After  recovering  he  made  many  trips  in  search 
of  the  body  of  his  partner,  but  never  found  it. 

We  crossed  Tekeil  River  on  a  narrow  bridge,  over 
water  that  was  thirty  feet  deep.  Even  horses  be- 
come imbued  with  recklessness  in  Alaska,  and  ours 
unhesitatingly  undertook  any  task  required  of  them. 
Possibly  a  thousand  horses  crossed  over  this  bridge 
during  that  summer. 

Our  ascent  of  the  Copper  River  was  the  same  old 
story  of  a  battle  with  gnats,  flies  and  mosquitoes.  It 
is  very  probable  that  many  of  those  mosquitoes  could 
whip  a  wolf.  They  are  the  embodiment  of  bravery. 
I  have  seen  a  single  mosquito  attack  a  full-grown 
dog.     It  has  been  said  that  the  Alaska  mosquitoes 


Pack-train  crossi 


iig  on  a  Pole-bridge. 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       227 

differ  from  others  by  having  a  white  spot  between 
their  eyes  about  the  size  of  one's  hand.  I  have  met 
no  baldfaced  ones  up-to-date,  but  the  Colonel  asserts 
that  he  met  one  on  the  trail,  and  fortunately  for  him, 
the  monster  was  eating  a  squirrel  at  the  time. 

After  enjoying  chicken  stew  for  an  evening  meal, 
we  were  greatly  amused  at  the  Colonel's  glorious 
exaggerations.  The  Colonel  was  a  most  agreeable 
camp  companion,  and  very  entertaining.  He  told 
of  seeing  a  salmon  in  the  river  that  was  nine  feet 
long.  We  worked  with  him  until  bed-time,  "  Jew- 
ing "  him  down,  an  inch  at  a  time,  until  he  had  re- 
duced the  length  to  thirty-six  Inches;  but  there  he 
balked  and  declared  by  Mt.  Drum  that  he  would  not 
take  off  another  inch.  The  task  of  shortening  up 
that  salmon  drove  Mac  to  bed  and  caused  me  to 
reason  with  the  Colonel.  I  told  him  that  about  all 
the  satisfaction  I  ever  had  derived  from  the  study  of 
grammar  was  the  proof  that  all  other  grammarians 
were  liars,  and  added  that  I  thought  he  should  either 
write  fiction  or  be  a  professed  grammarian. 

The  Colonel  replied  that  the  Americans  were  retro- 
grading rapidly  into  a  nation  of  liars.  He  said  they 
lied  to  their  children  about  a  mythical  Santa  Claus, 
and  later  on  they  compelled  them  to  study  fiction  In 
the  schools.  They  did  this,  he  declared,  with  a  pre- 
tense of  studying  English,  when  English  could  just 
as  easily  be  taught  in  the  study  of  natural  and  politi- 
cal history.     He  insisted  that  the  Americans  con- 


228       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

stantly  pay  for  things  they  do  not  need,  and  buy  books 
of  fiction  because  they  want  to  be  humbugged.  As  an 
instance  In  point  he  cited  the  following  circumstance : 
Lewis  and  Clark  wrote  facts  about  their  journey 
across  the  continent,  but  the  public  demanded  a  liar 
to  tarnish  the  story  with  romance  and  an  Indian 
woman  to  guide  them  across.  Subsequently  the  direc- 
tors of  the  Portland  fair  erected  a  monument  to  the 
mythical  squaw,  because  they  preferred  that  which 
was  false — a  deception  and  a  lie.  The  real  squaw 
only  guided  them  a  short  distance. 

He  objected  to  the  Americans  being  taught  Ger- 
man, French  and  the  dead  languages,  when  they 
should  know  that  there  are  no  business  opportunities 
in  Europe  for  their  sons,  while  the  whole  of  South 
America  Is  a  vast  field  for  our  goods  and  Implements. 
Instead  of  teaching  the  Americans  the  English  and 
Spanish  languages,  they  cross  the  ocean  to  pay  for 
languages  they  do  not  need.  He  added:  "  If  Presi- 
dent Roosevelt  said  California  had  no  schools,  who 
knows  but  he  was  correct,  and  if  that  State  were  one 
of  the  leading  ones  in  education,  what  about  the 
others?" 

That  question  sent  me  to  bed,  where  I  lay  and 
writhlngly  attempted  to  digest  the  Colonel's  lecture. 
I  thought  of  the  many  graduates  who  are  compara- 
tively ignorant  of  geography.  How  few  of  them 
know  whether  Sydney  is  in  Australia  or  New  Zea- 
land, or  that  Australia  is  larger  than  the  United 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        229 

States.  If  they  talked  with  you  about  Alaska  they 
probably  would  refer  to  it  as  "  The  Klondike."  I 
thought  of  a  time  when  I  had  shown  an  educated 
lawyer  some  photographs  of  Alaska  mountains  that 
bordered  the  sea,  and  had  attempted  to  explain  to 
him  that  they  were  about  five  thousand  feet  high,  and 
he  had  indirectly  called  me  a  liar  by  saying  that  it  was 
impossible,  as  mountains  did  not  attain  such  great 
heights  at  the  edge  of  salt  water.  He  evidently  as- 
sumed that  all  the  world  was  like  Monterey  County, 
California,  and  that  one  would  be  compelled  to  go  as 
far  from  salt  water  as  he  would  from  there  to  the 
Sierra  Nevadas,  to  see  high  mountains.  He  evi- 
dently did  not  know  that  St.  Elias  looks  down  from 
twenty  thousand  feet  to  the  ocean  that  laps  its  base. 

I  was  reminded  of  a  county  school-board  which 
recently  required  scholars  to  tell  how  a  balky  horse 
acts,  and  thereby  impressed  upon  the  scholars  the 
fact  of  how  silly  a  school-board  could  act.  I  thought 
drowsily  that  if  I  had  devoted  more  time  to  the  study 
of  English,  I  should  not  now  be  attempting  so  often 
to  perform  the  acrobatic  feat  of  constructing  sen- 
tences without  subject  and  predicate  foundations; 
and  then  I — I — passed  into  a  fairy-land  of  slumber. 

On  July  4  we  arrived  at  the  place  where  Mr. 
Date  and  I  had  left  for  the  coast  in  1899,  with  no 
footwear.  Now  there  was  an  abundance  of  bunch- 
grass  for  our  horses.  The  forest  fires  had  quieted 
the  mosquitoes,  and  as  the  warm  weather  was  decid- 


230       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

edly  enervating,  we  concluded  to  be  patriotic  and 
rest.  The  fires  had  driven  our  little  dog  Pete  across 
the  river,  where  he  had  traveled  for  one  whole  day, 
and  then  had  swum  over  to  our  camp  at  night. 

Some  visitors  came  into  camp  while  we  were  bak- 
ing bread  for  our  future  needs,  and  the  conversation 
turned  upon  cooking.  One  said  he  had  cooked  on  a 
Yukon  stove,  another  said  he  had  cooked  on  a  large 
hotel  range,  and  the  Colonel  announced  that  he  had 
cooked  on  a  cattle  range. 

On  Slate  Creek  we  saw  string  after  string  of 
sluice  boxes,  attended  by  long-bearded,  long-haired 
and  high-booted  men,  shoveling,  picking  and  pan- 
ning. Others  would  not  work,  because  they  wanted 
$15.00  a  day  and  could  get  but  $10.00.  A  few 
claims  were  producing  more  than  $100.00  a  day  to 
the  man. 

One  Sunday,  when  Slate  Creek  was  abandoned  by 
all  hands,  because  they  were  attending  a  miners' 
meeting  In  another  gulch,  I  walked  up  the  creek  to 
find  It  deserted,  and  thousands  of  dollars  In  the  yel- 
low metal  scattered  around  the  tents  in  gold-pans  and 
tin-cups.  No  one  was  left  to  watch  over  the  treas- 
ure, as  thieves  In  such  localities  are  not  protected  by 
law. 

Sensational  writers  often  harmfully  and  falsely 
educate  the  masses  In  their  statements  regarding  life 
on  the  frontier.  It  is  a  pitiful  sight  to  see  a  young 
man  coming  west,  or  northwest,  with  a  six-shooter 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        231 

conspicuously  hanging  on  the  right,  but  wrong,  side, 
in  accordance  with  customs  obtained  from  illustrated 
fictional  periodicals  and  cheap  shows. 

This  Slate  Creek  was  the  gulch  on  which  Gokona 
Charley,  the  Indian,  had  vainly  endeavored  to  per- 
suade me  to  investigate  and  locate  in  1899;  and  no 
doubt  but  it  was  the  original  Captain  West  discov- 
ery. We  left  there  and  traveled  for  days  over  a 
rolling  hill  country  and  past  the  point  where  I  had 
killed  the  bear  by  the  lake  the  year  before.  We 
crossed  the  Delta  River  where  it  was  not  deep 
enough  to  swim  our  horses,  and  entered  one  of  the 
then-unexplored  sources  of  the  Shusitna  River. 

We  crossed  by  easy  passages  through  the  moun- 
tains and  discovered  another  glacier  which  was  the 
source  of  two  rivers,  namely,  the  Eureka,  a  tributary 
of  the  Delta,  and  a  fork  of  the  East  Fork  of  the 
Shusitna,  now  known  as  the  McClarren  River.  Just 
below  the  glacier  we  crossed  the  McClarren  where  It 
was  a  mile  wide.  We  found  dry  willow  to  burn  when 
we  were  above  timber,  but  the  mosquitoes  drove  us 
down  to  where  we  could  build  large  fires  to  smoke 
them  from  our  horses.  It  is  astonishing  how  quickly 
a  horse  will  learn  that  smoke  protects  him  from  those 
Insects. 

I  discovered  a  beautiful  waterfall  near  the  source 
of  the  McClarren.  On  those  travels  we  found  few 
signs  where  Indians  had  made  their  annual  fall 
hunts,  but  at  that  time  they  were  down  the  river 


232       Trailing   and   Camping  in   AlasUa 

catching  salmon.  The  subject  of  Indians  caused  the 
Colonel  to  tell  about  killing  them  until  Mac  lost  his 
appetite.  Evidently  he  had  killed  thousands  of  them 
— that  is,  Comanches,  Apaches  and  Sioux,  for  he 
wished  to  impress  us  with  the  idea  that  he  didn't 
count  such  as  Diggers,  Piutes  and  Siwashes. 

Mac  and  I  left  the  Colonel  to  care  for  camp  and 
for  our  crippled  horses,  while  we  prospected  towards 
the  west.  We  ascended  over  rolling,  gravelly  hills, 
through  which  Is  a  strip  of  old  ocean  wash  that  may 
some  day  be  worked  for  gold,  yet  we  did  not  stop 
to  prospect  It,  but  climbed  among  the  mountains 
where  one  would  not  think  a  horse  could  get  a  foot- 
ing, and  at  night  we  descended  a  steep  canyon,  where 
we  camped  and  enjoyed  ptarmigan  stew,  while  It 
rained. 

The  next  day  we  again  climbed  among  mountains 
where  the  sun  was  kissing  new  life  Into  bluebells  and 
buttercups.  At  one  place,  a  caribou  cow  and  calf 
approached  to  investigate  the  centaur-like  intruders 
upon  their  northern  domain.  They  stopped  and 
looked,  then  trotted  down  fifty  yards  nearer.  The 
little  red  calf  trotted  alongside  of  Its  mother's  flanks 
and  affectionately  rubbed  Its  Httle  head  against  them. 
They  came  within  fifty  yards  of  us,  and  not  until  we 
had  dismounted  from  our  horses  did  they  become 
really  frightened  and  scamper  away.  The  cow  was 
too  poor  to  shoot,  and  we  would  not  separate  them 
by  killing  the  calf.  Away  up  on  a  ridge  could  be 
seen  the  long  horns  of  the  cow,  as  she  stopped  to  look 


^ 


a 
O 


Trailing   and   Camping  in  Alaska       233 

back,  but  a  report  from  my  pistol  caused  her  to  dis- 
appear in  the  distance,  and  probably  to  follow  more 
cautiously  the  trails  of  her  ancestors. 

It  really  is  a  pity  that  human  butchers  are  allowed 
to  run  at  large  and  needlessly  kill  all  kinds  of  game, 
even  when  it  Is  unfit  to  be  eaten.  There  are  those 
who  will  kill  and  leave  the  carcass  to  rot,  but  fortu- 
nately such  men  are  few,  and  they  are  never  experi- 
enced frontiersmen.  Both  caribou  and  moose  are 
wonderfully  good  swimmers  and  do  not  hesitate  to 
swim  across  large  rivers  and  even  lakes.  I  have  heard 
of  men  who  would  row  a  boat  up  to  them,  and  there 
kill  them,  while  they  were  swimming  for  their  lives. 
Such  men  have  no  spirit,  and  they  are  the  kind  who 
brag  about  shooting  deer  with  shotguns  or  killing 
fish  with  dynamite. 

We  crawled  up  to  one  high  divide,  but  a  parachute 
would  be  necessary  to  enable  one  to  drop  down  on  the 
other  side.  There  the  aneroid  indicated  an  elevation 
of  seven  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  and  there,  too, 
the  clouds  drifted  away  and  allowed  us  one  brief 
glimpse  of  Mount  McKInley — or,  as  it  Is  known  by 
the  Indians,  Mount  Bulsha,  which  Is  the  largest  and 
highest  mountain  on  the  North  American  continent. 
Another  storm  was  approaching,  and  we  hurriedly 
descended  down  to  the  edge  of  the  Shusltna  valley, 
where  we  camped  among  some  dead  spruce  trees 
where  the  grass  was  as  high  as  our  horses'  backs. 

A  week  before  that  I  had  traveled  alone  from  the 
head  of  Clear  Creek,  and  had  arrived  at  the  source 


234        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

of  what  is  now  known  as  Valdez  Creek.  On  the 
way,  I  found  an  eighteen-foot  vein  of  lignite  coal.  I 
also  washed  out  some  gold  prospects  on  Valdez 
Creek,  but  they  were  of  little  importance.  We  had 
now  come  around  to  a  point  near  the  lower  end  of 
Valdez  Creek,  and  close  to  some  new  good  placer 
diggings.  There  Mr.  McCarthy  probably  washed 
the  first  gold  from  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  Val- 
dez Creek  diggings,  but  the  credit  for  opening  up 
the  creek  belongs,  not  to  us,  but  to  those  who  after- 
wards "  mushed  "  in  to  that  place  and  spent  years  in 
opening  it  up.  They  discovered  the  pay  streaks  by 
continual  digging,  and  to  such  men  must  be  given  all 
the  credit  of  opening  placer  camps  and  mining  dis- 
tricts in  the  north,  and  not  to  the  ramblers. 

On  our  return  to  the  Colonel's  camp,  we  saw  one 
little  bear.  It  was  about  this  time  that  Archie  Parks, 
twenty  miles  from  that  point,  was  most  unlovingly 
hugged  by  a  bear.  The  bear  did  not  release  his 
hold  until  the  little  Siwash  dog  of  Archie's  nipped  its 
heels.  While  the  bear  gave  chase  to  the  dog,  Archie 
ran  to  his  companions  in  a  dazed  and  bloody  condi- 
tion. Fortunately,  Parks  was  not  seriously  hurt,  and 
after  seventeen  stitches  had  been  taken  In  his  scalp, 
he  remarked  that  he  felt  bearly  impressed  with  the 
idea  of  returning  to  Slate  Creek  for  further  repairs. 
When  we  arrived  at  the  old  camp,  we  found  Colonel 
Launtz  sitting  by  the  campfire,  watching  for  In- 
dians. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

//  a  trail  doesn't  bring  an  appetite  to  a  man,  it  will  lead 
the  man  to  an  appetite. 

From  that  hospital  camp  we  returned  in  a  south- 
erly direction.  We  recrossed  the  McClarren  River, 
where  we  saw  more  than  one  hundred  wild  geese 
swimming  down  the  stream,  having  been  floated 
from  their  island  nests  by  the  high  water.  They 
could  "  honk  "  equal  to  their  grandfathers,  but  they 
couldn't  fly,  and  their  short  wings  proclaimed  them 
to  be  goslings. 

We  camped  on  an  old  Indian  trail  that  leads  from 
the  Gulkana  country  to  Knik,  by  way  of  the  Matan- 
uska,  and  on  that  trail  we  saw  the  tracks  of  a  white 
man  leading  westward.  It  is  probable  that  those  were 
the  last  seen  tracks  of  Clark  Moore,  of  Fresno,  Cali- 
fornia. He  passed  through  that  way  but  never  again 
was  heard  from.  There  were  tracks  of  three  Indians 
on  that  trail,  and  if  not  murdered  by  them,  he  must 
have  died  an  awful  death  of  a  wild,  crazed  and 
wandering  prospector.  His  last  moments  may  have 
been  happy  in  the  delusion  that  he  had  found  the 
rich  pay  he  so  long  had  sought. 

We  traveled  several  days  in  an  easterly  direction, 
over  high  gravelly  and  brush-covered  ridges,  enclos- 
ing numerous  lakes.    All  lakes  that  had  outlets  were 

235 


236       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

stocked  with  trout.  The  hills  were  literally  covered 
with  cackling  ptarmigan,  and  our  diet  generally  con- 
sisted of  a  choice  of  ptarmigan  or  duck  stew,  or  fried 
trout.  Once,  when  Mac  crippled  a  duck,  our  little 
dog  Pete  was  sent  into  the  water  after  it.  When  he 
approached,  it  dived,  and  down  went  Pete.  For  a 
minute  the  water  was  smooth ;  then  up  came  the  little 
dog  with  the  duck  in  his  mouth. 

At  another  time,  when  we  were  camped  near  the 
shore  of  a  lake  that  formed  one  of  the  sources  of  the 
Gulkana  River,  we  discovered  the  fresh  tracks  of 
three  Indians.  As  they  were  near  our  camp  and  did 
not  come  in,  it  was  evident  that  they  were  renegades, 
out  for  no  good  purpose. 

When  crossing  through  a  high  pass  between  the 
rolling  hills  and  near  the  Gulkana  Lake,  I  saw  two 
caribou,  which  were  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away. 
Both  had  large,  long  antlers,  but  evidently  one  was 
a  bull,  and  the  other  a  small  heifer.  The  male  stood 
on  the  point  of  a  small  hillock  and  displayed  the 
august  bearing  of  a  leader,  gazing  far  away  into  the 
blue,  and  over  Alaska's  spruce  forest  beneath.  He 
lowered  his  great  antlers  until  his  nostrils  had  sniffed 
at  the  bunch-grass  at  his  feet,  and  when  he  raised 
them  again,  their  golden  polished  surface  played  re- 
flections with  the  light  of  the  northern  sun. 

I  left  my  horse  and  noiselessly  crawled  to  a  place 
where  it  appeared  that  I  was  within  reach  of  him. 
Placing  my  pistol  on  a  hummock  of  the  tundra,  I 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alasha       237 

aimed  to  the  top  of  his  shoulder  and  fired;  but  that 
elevation  was  evidently  insufficient  and  the  bullet 
must  have  struck  beneath  him.  It  was  farther  away 
than  I  had  first  supposed,  so  I  raised  to  sight  above 
him  and  fired  again.  Elk-like,  he  never  flinched,  but 
before  another  shot  could  be  carefully  placed,  he 
walked  a  few  steps  and  lay  down.  Then  he  got  up 
on  his  feet  and  turned  broadside,  so  that  another  bul- 
let was  placed  as  near  the  second  as  possible,  and  he 
slowly  turned  and  again  lay  down.  From  the  way 
his  large  antlers  were  rocking,  it  was  evident  that  his 
life-blood  was  passing  out. 

The  heifer  was  looking  in  my  direction,  and  I 
raised  my  white  hat  to  further  excite  her  curiosity. 
She,  antelope-like,  quickly  responded  by  trotting  in  a 
large  circle  that  brought  her  much  nearer.  She 
stopped  and  looked  for  a  moment,  and  then  con- 
tinued the  circle;  the  next  time  came  nearer,  and  the 
third  circle  brought  her  so  near  that,  when  she 
stopped  to  look,  I  gave  her  a  mortal  shot  at  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty-six  steps.  She  continued  her  circle  in 
a  rapid  trot  and  after  going  about  fifty  steps  tumbled 
over,  heels  up.  She  was  killed  just  as  quickly  with 
that  shot  from  a  .38  cal.  pistol  as  if  she  had  been 
shot  with  a  45-70  rifle. 

It  was  found  that  the  last  two  shots  at  the  bull 
had  struck  near  together  and  one  of  them  had  pierced 
the  heart.  The  Colonel  stepped  the  distance  and 
then    advised   me    to   mould    my   bullets    and    mix 


238        Trailing   and   Camping  in    Alaska 

salt  with  the  lead,  so  that  it  would  preserve  the  meat 
until  I  could  arrive  to  where  It  was. 

We  loaded  our  horses  with  meat,  as  I  never  waste 
it  or  travel  with  one  who  does.  That  evening  we 
descended  to  timber,  strung  the  meat  up  in  trees  and 
remained  there  several  days  prospecting.  Here,  the 
Colonel  offered  to  bet  that  Mac  could  eat  a  caribou 
at  two  sittings,  but  the  challenge  was  declined. 

I  descended  In  search  of  a  way  that  would  lead  us 
off  from  the  mountain  and  through  the  timber,  and 
had  not  gone  half  a  mile  from  the  camp  when  I  came 
out  within  thirty  steps  of  a  large  bull  moose.  He 
was  a  pretty  sight  as  he  dignifiedly  turned  his  antlers, 
and  Instantly  I  regretted  that  I  had  not  brought  my 
kodak.  Instinctively  I  caught  hold  of  my  pistol, 
but  he  was  peaceably  inclined  and  walked  away.  I 
did  not  care  to  kill  him,  as  we  had  plenty  of  meat  In 
camp;  but  at  that  time  of  year  these  animals  are  dan- 
gerous, and  when  one  is  so  near  they  are  liable  to 
charge. 

We  descended  to  the  river  between  the  lakes,  and 
there  came  upon  a  camp  of  some  prospectors. 
Among  them  was  a  "  tenderfoot "  who  appeared  to 
take  everything  good-naturedly,  but  acknowledged 
that  he  did  not  enjoy  the  exposures  that  the  life  en- 
tailed. At  least  I  inferred  as  much  when  he  an- 
nounced : 

"  Here  I've  been  traveling  all  summer,  with  no 
roof  over  me  except  the  canopy  of  heaven  I     It  is 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        239* 

with  a  smile  in  my  eye  that  I  confess. I  have  used  the 
soft  side  of  a  rock  for  a  pillow  while  sleeping  in 
these  wilds !  " 

"  Have  you  found  any  gold?  "  I  asked. 

"What?  me  find  gold?  Why,  these  fellows  say 
I  couldn't  save  a  color  of  gold  from  a  pan  of  saw- 
dust! All  the  gold  I  have  found,  you  could  put  In 
your  eye,  and  it  wouldn't  make  you  wink!  I'm  not 
out  for  gold,  but  for  experience,  and  now  I  am  over- 
loaded with  that.  No,  sir,  I  haven't  done  a  thing 
for  myself  or  any  one  else,  all  summer.  They  did 
send  me  to  search  for  the  horses  one  morning,  and 
the  whole  crowd  spent  the  rest  of  the  day  looking 
for  me.  After  that,  they  said  they  wanted  me  only 
for  an  ornament  to  the  expedition.  One  calls  me  the 
mascot,  and  another  the  hoodoo.  As  soon  as  pos- 
sible, I  am  going  to  return  to  my  people." 

"  I  suppose  the  fatted  calf  will  be  slaughtered  on 
that  occasion?  " 

*'  No,  sir;  a  calf  wouldn't  do  It  justice.  It  will  be 
an  ox !  " 

The  next  night  we  camped  by  a  beaver  lake  that 
had  been  formed  by  a  dam  across  a  ravine,  which 
backed  water  up  over  several  hundred  acres.  It  had 
been  recently  constructed,  as  green  willows  were  to 
be  seen  in  it.  There  should  be  a  fine  Imposed  on  any 
one  who  brings  a  beaver  skin  from  Alaska.  That 
would  dispel  the  Indians'  incentive  for  killing  them. 
There  are  vast  areas  especially  adapted  for  beaver 


240       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

pasturage,  and  good  for  nothing  else,  and  if  the 
beavers  were  protected  for  twenty  years,  the  country 
would  again  be  restocked  with  the  fur  that  assisted 
Russia  In  clearing  six  millions  of  dollars. 

Mr.  Quigley  accompanied  us  from  Slate  Creek  as 
far  as  Indian  Creek.  It  was  on  this  creek  that 
Quigley  climbed  a  tree,  and  all  the  enticing  looks  of 
two  full-grown  grizzlies  could  not  induce  him  to 
come  down.  In  writing  this  manuscript,  I  carelessly 
left  Quigley  up  there  in  the  tree,  but  a  friend,  when 
reading  it,  advised  me  to  get  him  down,  even  though 
it  were  necessary  to  shoot  him  out.  As  he  seemed  to 
be  a  pretty  good  sort  of  a  fellow,  I  will  elaborate 
the  account  and  explain  what  really  happened. 

A  dog  came  into  camp  and  frightened  the  bears, 
and  when  they  ran  away,  Quigley  descended.  He 
said  that  he  had  been  busy  repairing  a  pack-saddle, 
when,  upon  hearing  a  noise,  he  looked  over  his  shoul- 
der and  saw  two  bears  within  a  few  steps  of  him. 
He  had  a  45-70  rifle  near,  but  as  the  tree  was  closer 
than  the  gun,  he  chose  the  tree.  If  he  had  had  a 
Frontier  revolver  strapped  to  him,  from  his  perch 
he  could  have  killed  the  bears,  but  he  was  one  of 
those  who  depend  upon  a  rifle. 

A  prospector  who  depends  on  a  rifle  always  is 
telling  what  he  could  have  killed  if  only  he  had  had 
his  gun  with  him.  He  becomes  weary  of  carrying  a 
rifle  everywhere  he  goes,  and  consequently  about 
half  the  game  he  sees  is  when  he  is  unarmed. 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       241 

There  were  signs  that  many  Indians  once  had 
made  this  country  their  home.  An  old  trail  leads  up 
the  creek  and  over  the  rolling  hills  beyond.  There 
can  be  seen  old  "  high-signs,"  which  may  be  found 
In  all  Indian  countries.  Old  dead  bushes  bore  knife 
marks  that  were  made  before  we  were  born,  and 
they  suggested  the  query  of:  How  many,  old  and 
young,  with  their  joys  and  troubles,  have  trodden 
this  deep-worn  path?  They  may  have  had  hopes, 
but  it  Is  doubtful  if  they  extended  beyond  a  pros- 
pective dance,  "pot-latch,"  or  a  moose  hunt;  they 
had  their  jealousies,  however — sickness  and  death. 

The  countless  herds  of  wild  animals  contributed 
their  numbers  to  aboriginal  support  until  strong 
tribes  inhabited  these  wilds.  When  the  herds  were 
nearly  exterminated,  they  being  the  principal  sup- 
port of  the  Indians,  the  red  men,  too,  lay  themselves 
down  and  died.  A  few  caribou  and  moose  survive 
the  contest,  but  fewer  Indians. 

It  rained  so  hard  while  we  were  at  the  head- 
waters of  that  creek,  that  after  two  days  of  prospect- 
ing, we  returned  to  our  camp,  and  found  that  Quig- 
ley  had  left  for  the  Yukon.  Montgomery  and  Mc- 
Kenney  were  there,  having  spent  the  summer  on  the 
Tanana  and  White  Rivers,  and  they  had  eaten  noth- 
ing but  sheep  meat  for  three  weeks. 

We  were  sitting  by  the  campfire  after  supper,  ex- 
changing summer  experiences  with  our  visitors,  when 
tlie  Colonel  told  a  very  remarkable  story.    Whenever 


242        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 


the  Colonel  tells  anything,  however,  it  is  remarkable. 
He  told  us  of  once  having  discovered  a  wonderful 
deposit  of  lead  on  the  summit  of  the  Olympics.  He 
peeled  a  flake  of  It,  which  he  rolled  down  hill  until 
It  gained  momentum  by  its  weight,  and  then  he  lost 
control  of  it.  He  said  it  rolled  down  the  mountain, 
eating  deeper  and  gaining  weight  and  speed  until  rt 
tore  up  trees  and  left  a  great  canyon  as  its  track. 

There  was  silence  in  that  camp  for  awhile,  because 
no  one  felt  competent  to  criticise  the  remarkable 
statement.  Even  Pete,  our  dog,  had  a  doubtful  ex- 
pression on  his  countenance,  but  it  was  undesirable 
to  reprimand  him  in  the  Colonel's  presence.  Cau- 
tiously remonstrating  to  the  Colonel  the  next  day,  I 
said: 

"  Colonel,  those  visitors  are  strangers  to  us,  and, 
while  no  one  can  dispute  that  remarkable  occurrence, 
because  you  say  you  were  alone  at  the  time,  they  may 
be  inexperienced  in  prospecting,  and  entertain  doubts 
about  It." 

"  See  here,"  he  replied,  "  if  you  don't  sit  right 
down  on  strangers  at  the  beginning,  they  will  impose 
on  you.  All  young  upstarts  who  come  along  invari- 
ably attempt  to  tell  bigger  lies  than  any  one  else,  un- 
less you  knock  them  out  at  first,  and  then  hold  your 
club  over  them  as  long  as  they  are  in  your  camp. 
No,  sir!  I  told  that  for  self-protection,  sir!  It  is 
a  duty  I  owe  to  you  and  our  camp,  sir!  We  can't 
afford  to  allow  ourselves  to  be  imposed  on,  sir !  " 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       243 

Near  the  mouth  of  the  Chistochina  River  an  old 
Indian  grave  had  washed  away  and  the  bones  were 
scattered  along  the  bank.  I  told  Chistochina  Char- 
ley about  it,  and  this  nineteen-year-old  Indian  re- 
plied : 

"  Yep,  he  bones  of  my  grandmother.  Long  time 
grandmother  catchem.  salmon  from  Copper  River, 
now  Copper  River  catchem  grandmother." 

We  crossed  the  Gulkana  River  and  camped  where 
some  Indians  were,  and  they  cautioned  us  to  sleep 
away  from  near  the  firelight,  as  a  white  man,  while 
traveling  along  the  trail  a  few  days  before,  had  been 
shot  by  an  unknown  enemy.  They  suspected  that 
three  Tananas  had  done  it,  because  they  had  heard 
night-calls  a  few  nights  before.  When  they  crossed 
the  river  the  next  morning,  they  had  discovered  the 
moccasin  tracks  of  three  Indians.  As  we  had  seen 
the  moccasin  tracks  of  three  Indians,  several  times 
during  the  summer,  this  verified  my  first  conclusions 
in  regard  to  them.  I  think  they  were  searching  for 
a  white  man  who  had  tied  Indian  Albert  up  to  a  tree, 
and  had  whipped  him  for  stealing.  This  white 
man,  instead  of  going  Into  the  Shusitna  country, 
as  they  had  supposed,  had  gone  down  the  river  to 
Fairbanks,  and  at  this  writing  is  at  Goldfieldy 
Nevada. 

We  swam  our  horses  across  the  Tazlina  River. 
Here  Charley  Stobell,  of  Port  Angeles,  Washing- 
ton, was  drowned  in  an  attempt  to  cross  on  a  mule. 


244       Trailing   and   Camping  in  Alaska 

Man  and  beast  drifted  down  and  rolled  over  a  large 
boulder.     Charley  never  came  to  the  surface. 

A  man's  social,  or  monetary,  standing  in  civiliza- 
tion exerts  no  influence  whatever,  when  he  goes  on 
one  of  those  Alaskan  trips.  Geologists,  military  cap- 
tains, postal  inspectors  and  capitalists  have  discov- 
ered that  they  cannot  depend  on  others  who  are  oc- 
cupied in  caring  for  themselves,  and  that  they  are 
compelled  to  do  their  share  of  the  labor.  They  must 
make  a  choice  of  the  tasks  as  they  present  them- 
selves in  this  way:  Which  do  you  prefer,  horse- 
hunting,  cooking  or  preparing  camp?  If  you  are  a 
good  woodsman,  one  who  can  not  become  lost,  you 
are  the  one  to  go  horse-hunting. 

You  travel  until  tired,  then  listen  for  the  forty- 
second  time  for  that  horse-bell;  then,  sitting  down 
on  a  log,  you  continue  to  listen,  while  a  raven  croaks 
at  you  as  he  passes  up  the  river.  You  take  out  your 
knife  and  whittle,  and  wonder  why  you  came  to 
Alaska;  then  you  cock  up  your  left  ear  and  listen 
some  more. 

A  little  bird  about  the  size  of  a  butcher-bird,  one 
that  prospectors  call  "  Camp  Robber,"  alights  on 
the  ground,  impudently  near,  and  squints  one  eye 
up  at  you,  not  asking  your  business  but  trying  to  dis- 
cover something  he  can  steal.  He  will  follow  you 
to  camp  and  steal  everything  there  except  the  pack- 
saddles.  A  little  spruce  squirrel  will  descend  from  a 
tree  near  you,  chatter  "  clinket "  and  then  run  up 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        245 

the  tree  a  few  feet,  only  to  return  nearer  the  next 
time.  You  admire  his  red  coat,  his  bushy,  grayish 
tail  and  his  round,  beady  black  eyes.  He  may  run 
up  on  a  limb  and  there  warble  a  few  notes  of  music. 
I  was  in  Alaska  three  years  before  I  discovered  that 
those  melodious  notes  were  produced  by  a  squirrel; 
I  supposed  that  "  clinket "  was  all  of  its  vocabulary. 

You  kill  a  large  mosquito  that  has  been  tapping 
a  vein  on  the  back  of  your  hand,  and  that  makes 
just  one  thousand  and  one  of  them  that  you  have 
killed  while  sitting  there.  A  large  bumblebee  comes 
buzzing  around  a  lupine,  and  a  big  green-headed 
horsefly  alights  on  a  fern;  then  you  get  up  and  turn 
over  a  rotten  chunk  of  wood  and  uncover  a  nest  of 
very  large  black  ants. 

You  move  away  about  one  hundred  yards,  stop 
to  listen  for  the  horse-bell,  and  start  to  go  again, 
when  a  spruce  hen  flies  out  of  a  tree  within  a  few 
feet  of  your  head.  It  alights  on  another  tree  near 
by,  then  cranes  its  long  neck  at  you,  turns  its  little 
head  to  one  side,  and  exhibits  its  speckled  breast  to 
advantage.  The  spruce  hen  is  about  the  size  of  a 
leghorn  chicken,  with  black  specks  on  a  grayish 
bosom,  and  is  rather  stylish,  and  inclined  to  put  on 
airs. 

You  meander  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  and  among 
some  large  trees  you  find  wild  red  currants  on  bushes 
about  three  feet  high.  You  eat  a  double  handful 
of  them,  make  a  wry  face,  and  decide  them  to  be 


246       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 


about  as  sour  as  whiz.  Presently  you  conclude  there 
was  an  agreeable  whang  to  their  taste,  your  mouth 
waters  for  more,  and  you  eat  another  handful  and 
make  more  wry  faces;  then  eat  some  black  currants 
which  have  a  musky  flavor,  then  some  moss  berries 
to  take  away  their  taste;  and  then  finally  some  blue 
berries  to  take  that  taste  of  the  moss  berries  from 
your  mouth. 

You  hear  the  horse-bell,  travel  a  quarter  of  a 
mile,  hear  It  again,  but  not  so  loud;  then  travel  an- 
other quarter  of  a  mile  and  you  don't  hear  It  at  all. 
You  decide  that  you  have  gone  In  the  wrong  direc- 
tion, and  after  traveling  an  hour  over  a  moss-covered 
country  you  come  out  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  feel- 
ing exhausted.  You  look  In  the  dust  of  the  trail 
there,  and  find  a  fresh  bear  track.  Somehow,  this 
discovery  refreshes  you  wonderfully,  and  you  Im- 
mediately return  to  camp  to  Impart  the  Information 
that  the  horses  have  taken  the  back  track;  but  there 
you  find  them,  all  saddled,  for  they  had  been  lying 
down,  not  one  hundred  yards  from  where  you  had 
slept. 

Mounting  the  horses  and  with  pack-horses  fol- 
lowing, the  three  of  you  travel  along  river  bars  to 
where  a  place  Is  found  that  Is  sufficiently  shallow  to 
admit  of  fording.  Men  and  horses  safely  cross 
through  the  swift  water,  with  the  exception  of  one 
horse  that  starts  too  low  down;  and  one  man  rides 
down  there  to  turn  him  back.     He  gets  Into  deep 


Trailing   and   Cainping  in   Alaska       247 

water  where  the  waves  dash  against  the  boulders, 
and  when  all  are  on  the  bank  except  this  one  man 
and  horse,  you  see  them  strike  a  large  boulder,  roll 
over  and  disappear  beneath  the  surface.  Presently 
the  horse  is  seen  to  gain  the  shore  without  his  rider. 
The  man's  dog,  that  swam  near  them  all  the  time, 
also  reaches  land  and  wistfully  looks  over  the  river's 
surface. 

It  requires  an  hour  of  time  for  you  to  go  through 
the  brush  and  fallen  timber  to  the  horse,  and  another 
hour  is  spent  in  looking  along  the  bank  for  the  lost 
one,  but  glacier  streams  never  give  up  the  dead. 
With  the  riderless  horse  you  return  to  your  com- 
panions and  go  a  mile  farther  along,  camping  among 
a  heavy  growth  of  spruce,  where  there  is  good  horse 
feed  near  by. 

After  partaking  of  your  evening  meal,  and  you 
and  your  remaining  companion  are  silently  gazing 
at  the  blazing  campfire — for  the  sad  Incident  of 
the  day  has  cast  a  gloom  over  you — you  express 
your  sadness  in  words,  whereupon  your  companion 
suggests  a  diversion  of  mind  to  something  more 
pleasant.  You  reply  that  It  is  useless  to  try,  as  there 
is  the  rolled  sleeping-bag  on  the  other  side  of  the 
fire;  whereupon  the  drowned  man's  dog  goes  to  it, 
looks  inquisitively  at  you  and  then  trots  off  down 
the  trail  towards  the  river. 

You  conclude  to  retire  and  crawl  Into  your  sleep- 
ing-bags, with  both  your  hands  beneath  the  boughs 


248       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

of  the  same  tree.  The  dismal  howl  of  a  dog  comes 
to  your  ears  from  away  down  on  the  river  bot- 
tom. The  embers  of  the  fire  die  low,  a  lone  owl 
hoots  from  the  dark  recesses  of  the  forest,  and  the 
stars  of  the  September  night  shoot  their  streams  of 
light  down  between  the  trees.  The  dog  returns  and 
lies  down  beside  his  master's  sleeping-bag.  That 
Is  a  sample  of  the  life  led  by  the  Alaska  frontiers- 
men In  summer-time. 


CHAPTER    XX 

The  cord  that  ties  the  trail-boys,  has  lashed  the??!  heart  to 

heart; 
No  stage  presents  their  joys,  no  actors  play  their  part; 
Their  struggles  are  seldom  known,  because  through  wilds 

untrodj 
Those  daring  spirits  roam  where  there  is  naught  but  God. 

I  SHED  the  above  after  eating  a  breakfast  of  brain 
food  and  then  being  jostled  over  a  very  rough  road. 
The  reader  is  warned  to  prepare  for  any  volcanic 
outburst  of  rhyme  that  may  be  exploded  in  future. 

iWe  rested  a  few  days  at  Copper  Center  and  then 
continued  our  trip  to  the  Coast.  A  description  of 
a  trip  down  the  Copper  River  that  was  taken  by 
seven  prospectors  that  September,  1901,  may  be  in- 
teresting. They  were  Harry  Thompson,  Charles 
M.  Sclosser,  J.  B.  Morris,  Al.  Dowling,  C.  A. 
Punches,  J.  A.  Jacobson  and  "  Shorty  "  Fisher.  The 
last  named  was  assisted  into  the  boat  by  the  others, 
at  Copper  Center,  and  when  Punches  was  asked  the 
cause  of  "  Shorty's  "  helplessness,  he  replied: 

"  He's  been  shot  through  the  ham !  " 

It  was  supposed  that  the  slight  wound  had  been 
caused  by  a  malicious  Indian,  and  possibly  one  of 
the  three  before-mentioned.     He  had  been  walking 

?49 


250        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

along  the  trail  at  the  time  the  shot  was  fired  from 
ambush.  "  Shorty  "  was  now  constantly  reminding 
the  others  of  his  presence  by  incessant  groans. 

The  boat  was  cast  off  and,  aided  by  six  sturdy 
oarsmen,  it  flitted  along  on  the  swift  current  like  a 
bird  on  the  wing.  It  darted  down  rapids  where  the 
hidden  boulders  sent  spray  high  in  the  air;  and 
around  curves,  between  high  gravel  banks  and  broad 
level  flats.  These  flats  were  covered  with  cotton- 
wood,  spruce  and  willow  trees,  with  occasionally 
cleared  spots  where  grass  grew  to  prodigious  height, 
and  waved  and  bent  In  the  soft  breeze.  Sometimes 
an  Indian  "  set-down  "  was  passed,  where  old  dirty 
rags  were  waved  at  the  passing  white  men.  Little 
boys  threw  pebbles  into  the  muddy  Copper,  and,  with 
scowling  faces,  hurled  a  jargon  of  anathema,  their 
natural  heritage,  after  the  white  adventurers. 

They  passed  through  Wood  Canyon,  with  its  high 
moss-covered  walls  confining  the  deep  whirlpools 
of  the  enraged  Copper.  Even  the  color  of  the  water 
indicated  anger,  at  its  source.  When  they  arrived 
at  the  rapids,  all  hands,  even  the  dogs.  Ginger  and 
Joe,  jumped  ashore,  for  it  was  necessary  to  line  the 
boat  past  two  sections  of  the  rapids.  By  good  boat- 
manship  they  could  cross  and  descend  a  slough  that 
would  avoid  the  lower  rapids  and  the  danger  of  be- 
ing hurled  against  and  beneath  the  falling  ice  of 
Miles  glacier.  Before  they  had  lined  to  that  point, 
the  boat  was  swept  from  their  hands.     It  capsized 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        251 

and  spilled  in  the  turbulent  water  all  they  possessed, 
excepting  the  gold  In  their  belts. 

There  they  were,  cold,  wet  and  hungry,  with  the 
raging  ice  waters  of  the  Copper  in  front,  and  the 
glacier  below — tumbling  blocks  of  ice  as  large  as 
town  squares  into  a  two-hundred-acre  sheet  of  deep 
water.  They  would  sink  out  of  sight,  then  rise  to 
float  off  as  icebergs.  The  men  were  compelled  to 
sit  around  all  night,  without  a  fire,  and  listen  to  the 
booming  of  the  falling  ice,  while  the  cold  rain 
drenched  them  to  the  skin.  Death?  Yes,  that  was 
what  it  would  have  meant  to  most  men,  but  they 
were  inured  to  hardship  and  had  been  made  re- 
sourceful by  frontier  experiences;  they  did  not  de- 
spair even  in  such  a  dangerous  and  desolate  locality. 

The  next  morning  they  managed  to  climb  back 
on  to  the  glacier.  There  they  decided  to  cross  the 
four  miles  of  dangerous  ice,  and  attempt  to  descend 
the  left  bank  of  the  Copper,  where  possibly  they 
might  build  a  raft  of  driftlogs  and  willow-withes 
sufficiently  strong  to  carry  them  across  the  river. 
Thence,  by  traveling  down  along  the  bank,  they 
could  go  possibly  to  Alganik  trading-post. 

It  was  perilous  to  jump  crevasses,  or  to  walk  be- 
tween the  yawning  ones,  so  the  whole  of  that  day  was 
spent  in  crossing  that  dangerous  ice-field.  All  the 
while  it  rained,  and  the  booming  of  the  breaking 
glacier,  only  a  few  hundred  yards  below  them,  was 
constantly   heard.      Occasionally,    little    Ginger,    so 


252        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

named  because  of  his  color,  would  sit  on  the  edge 
of  a  yawning  crevasse  and  howl,  then  run  up  and 
down  until  he  had  found  a  narrow  place  where  he 
could  leap  across. 

They  were  safely  over  by  night,  and  once  more 
on  the  level  bottom  of  the  Copper,  where  they  built 
a  sickly  fire  from  wet  driftwood;  but  they  had  noth- 
ing with  which  to  allay  their  pangs  of  hunger.  They 
traveled  another  day,  and  "  Shorty "  grumblingly 
followed  to  another  starvation  camp.  Here,  however, 
they  found  "  chauce,"  a  wild  parsnip  root,  that  is 
the  farinacious  diet  of  the  Indians.  They  managed 
to  dig  enough  of  that  for  a  taste,  but  it  was  a  poor 
quality  of  food. 

Another  day  was  spent  in  traveling  to  a  place 
where  further  progress  in  that  direction  was  im- 
possible, for  the  Copper  ran  to  their  side  and  against 
a  mountain.  They  had  found  no  material  with  which 
a  raft  could  be  made,  and,  discouraged  and  weary, 
they  again  assembled  around  a  flickering  campfire 
while  the  cold  rain  beat  upon  them. 

Occasionally  they  slept,  only  to  dream  of  food 
and  the  comforts  of  home,  and  then  awaken  to  real- 
ize their  bitter  situation.  This  had  a  depressing 
effect,  In  spite  of  Jacobson's  laughter,  which  was  a 
well-meant,  but  weak  effort. 

They  had  passed  a  wrecked  boat,  about  thirty 
miles  back  up  the  river,  and  It  was  suggested  that 
if  they  could  return,  patch  it  up  and  again  attempt 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       253 

the  rapids,  they  would  exhaust  their  only  resource. 
It  appeared  to  be  impossible  to  recross  the  glacier 
without  food,  and  the  mention  of  such  a  hazardous 
undertaking  brought  renewed  groans,  imprecations 
and  prayers  from  "  Shorty."  With  one  square  meal, 
however,  it  might  be  possible,  but  that  was  impera- 
tively necessary.  One  of  the  men,  rousing  himself 
from  deep  thought,  said: 

"  Boys,  we  must  kill  a  dog,  make  a  square  meal 
out  of  him  and  then  mush  back!  Of  the  two  dogs, 
I  guess  the  most  appetizing  would  be  little  Ginger." 

The  affectionate  spaniel,  hearing  his  name  spoken, 
approached  the  speaker,  and  his  inquisitive  look  was 
construed  to  mean,  "I'm  ready!"  So  poor,  faith- 
ful Ginger  was  soon  killed,  skinned  and  cooked. 

After  partaking  of  a  square  meal  of  roast  dog, 
five  of  the  party  bade  "  Shorty  "  and  Punches  good- 
bye, and  began  the  dangerous  attempt  of  returning 
for  the  wrecked  canoe.  Punches  was  to  care  for 
"  Shorty,"  while  "  Shorty  "  expressed  a  willingness 
to  pray  for  the  whole  crowd.  At  the  first  declara- 
tion of  this  undertaking.  Punches  said: 

"  See  here,  '  Shorty,'  if  you  must  pray,  please 
cut  me  out.  Sabe?  I  must  keep  busy  at  digging 
roots  for  both  of  us,  and  it  would  be  preferable  for 
you  to  assist,  defer  praying,  and  thank  God  when 
you  get  out.  Besides,  it  is  very  doubtful  if  you  could 
obtain  an  audience  with  the  Creator,  anyway,  with 
your  admixture  of  profanity  and  supplication." 


254        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

But  "  Shorty  "  persisted  In  praying  and  groaning, 
while  Punches  dug  roots  and  profanely  qualified  his 
expressions  of  disgust  at  "  Shorty." 

It  was  with  a  feeling  of  complete  abandonment 
that  "  Shorty "  and  Punches  watched  the  receding 
forms  of  their  companions,  when  they  left  on  their 
uncertain  mission.  Their  success  was  possible  but 
not  probable,  and  If  they  secured  the  boat,  it  was  a 
question  whether  some  of  them  would  not  lose  their 
lives  on  the  glacier,  or  on  their  return.  The  miser- 
able days  were  anxiously  passed  by  those  two  lonely, 
starving  human  beings,  while  they  computed  their 
slender  chances  of  being  rescued  from  that  Isolated 
locality.  With  no  shelter  or  bedding,  they  sat  around 
on  rocks  while  it  rained,  rained,  rained,  and 
"  Shorty  "  cried,  grumbled  and  prayed. 

The  five  sturdy  adventurers  recrossed  the  glacier, 
scaled  the  sides  of  precipices  where  the  raging  river 
crawled  far  below,  and  slept  beneath  spruce  bushes 
during  the  nights.  They  found  the  boat,  and  with 
their  knives  cut  away  the  damaged  portion,  then 
burned  the  nails  from  the  useless  boards  and  replaced 
the  stern,  making  It  much  better  and  stronger  than 
they  had  expected  to  do.  They  lined  this  empty 
boat  safely  through  the  rapids,  and  joyfully  floated 
down  towards  the  camp  of  Punches  and  "  Shorty." 

When  they  were  seen,  "  Shorty  "  yelled  that  his 
prayers  had  saved  them,  and  rushed  for  the  boat, 
hugging  the  rescuers,  one  at  a  time.     Then  he  and 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        255 

Punches  declared  each  other  to  be  Insane,  while  Ja- 
cobson  acknowledged  that  both  were  correct. 

Reunited,  they  drifted  down  one  of  the  many  chan- 
nels of  the  Copper  River  delta,  and  past  Alganik 
trading-post,  where  they  found  not  a  soul  or  a  bite 
to  eat.  Here  Jacobson  examined  several  barrels 
that  were  empty,  and  one  that  he  supposed  was  filled 
with  water;  but  afterwards  he  was  told  that  it  was 
half-filled  with  salted  salmon.  Jacobson  says  that 
to  this  day,  whenever  he  thinks  about  that  incident, 
he  goes  and  buys  himself  a  mess  of  fish.  In  their 
attempt  to  reach  Eyak,  they  drifted  to  sea,  out  around 
the  cape,  where  their  little  craft  was  tossed  and 
pitched  by  the  ocean  swells.  Days  passed,  and  it 
seemed  that  they  would  never  arrive  at  Orca.  A 
watery  grave  or  starvation  seemed  inevitable. 
Again  hunger  suggested  that  they  should  eat  Joe, 
their  remaining  dog,  but  one  man  pleaded  that  his 
life  be  spared  for  another  day. 

They  were  weakly  pulling  their  oars  near  a  wooded 
shore,  when  one  of  them  announced  that  he  espied 
an  Indian  in  a  canoe,  not  a  mile  away.  They  re- 
doubled their  efforts,  and  with  frantic  yells  succeeded 
In  attracting  his  attention.  He  proved  to  be  a  white 
man  by  the  name  of  Hansen. 

The  appearance  of  these  hatless,  shoeless  and  rag- 
ged skeletons  readily  explained  to  Mr.  Hansen  their 
starving  condition.  He  piloted  them  for  a  short 
distance  to  his  cabin,  where  they  were  fed  and  shel- 


256       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

tered  until  strong  enough  to  proceed  the  short  dis- 
tance to  Orca.  When  they  parted  company  they 
gave  Hansen  $150  in  gold  nuggets.  They  had 
fasted  for  ten  and  one-half  days  with  $10,000  in 
their  belts.  Al.  Dowling  unfortunately  lost  $300 
with  his  sleeping-bag  in  the  rapids. 

At  the  time  of  this  writing,  Joe  Morris  is  in  Cal- 
ifornia, "  Shorty  "  Fisher  in  Chicago,  and  Thomp- 
son in  South  America,  while  the  rest,  even  to  dog 
Joe,  are  still  adding  to  their  Alaskan  experiences. 
Such  were  the  trials  subsequently  related  by  several 
members  of  that  party  of  adventurers. 

I  am  constrained  to  believe  that  the  nearer  the 
body  is  to  death,  the  more  the  mind  wanders  in  the 
mysterious  beyond,  and  possibly  associates  itself  with 
those  who  have  before  departed  from  this  life  in- 
carnate. The  nightly  recurrence  of  disagreeable 
dreams,  when  endeavoring  to  rest  the  tired  body  and 
weakened  mind,  are  doleful  reminiscences  for  those 
who  are  following  the  lonely  and  infelicitous  life 
of  daily  trudging  in  rain  and  cold,  when  constantly 
exposed  to  danger. 

I  dream  very  seldom  of  the  departed,  when  at 
rest  in  civilization,  but  when  at  the  head-waters  of 
the  Shusitna  River,  I  often  have  been  annoyed  with 
ghostly  nocturnal  companions.  Others  have  com- 
plained of  the  same  annoyance,  and  for  an  example, 
here  is  Bob  Young's  dream: 

"  I  had  been  packing  my  outfit  across  a  large  gla- 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       257 

cler's  moraine,"  he  said,  "  and  was  nearly  exhausted 
from  walking  so  much  on  the  solid  ice.  At  night  I 
spread  my  sleeping-bag  among  some  rocks,  and 
soon  was  asleep  amid  those  weird  and  desolate  sur- 
roundings. 

"  I  dreamed  that  I  was  back  home,  and  that  it  was 
very  dark  when  I  opened  the  yard  gate  and  stepped 
on  the  paved  walk,  so  that  it  was  necessary  to  step 
short  and  stamp  my  feet  to  follow  it.  As  I  neared 
the  door  I  heard  mother  say,  as  plainly  as  I  ever 
heard  her  in  my  life: 

"  '  Father,  are  you  asleep?  ' 

"  '  No,  what  is  it?  '  he  answered. 

"*I  hear  a  cow  walking  on  the  lawn;  better  go 
out  and  drive  her  off.' 

"  He  came  to  the  door  and  opened  it  and  ex- 
claimed: 

"  '  Why,  mother !  It  is  no  cow !  It  is  poor  Bob, 
who  has  come  home  after  walking  on  the  glacier  until 
he  is  all  stiffened  up ! ' 

"  I  threw  my  arms  about  father  and  awoke  to 
find  myself  yet  on  that  old  glacier,  thousands  of 
miles  from  home,  and  to  realize  that  both  my  par- 
ents had  been  dead  many  years." 

It  may  be  that  our  superstitious  faculties  have 
more  sway  and  work  more  freely  at  the  times  when 
we  are  most  weak-minded.  I  remember  that  once  I 
was  successfully  beaten  by  a  palmist.  I  had  given 
her  a  dollar  to  tell  me  something  that  I  didn't  know; 


258       Trailing   and    Camping  in   Alaska 

and  at  that  time  of  my  life  I  did  not  realize  how 
easy  that  was  to  do.  She  filled  her  part  of  the  agree- 
ment faithfully,  by  telling  me  that  I  was  a  married 
man  and  had  two  children.  Now,  if  I  had  been  mar- 
ried, it  must  have  been  when  I  was  not  in  my  right 
mind;  although  possibly  most  men  are  not  in  their 
right  minds  at  the  time  they  are  married.  I  did 
not  then,  and  do  not  now,  regret  paying  that  dol- 
lar, but  I  had  not  walked  a  block,  trying  to  recall 
the  circumstances  of  having  done  such  a  thing,  when 
I  paused,  turned  right  about  and  foolishly  returned 
and  paid  her  another  dollar  to  tell  me  where  was 
my  family.  That  apparently  proves  that  one  fool- 
ish action  leads  to  the  commission  of  another.  The 
act  of  paying  that  last  dollar  is  what  I  regret;  not 
because  I  failed  to  find  them,  for  I  might  have  re- 
gretted it  if  I  had,  but  because  it  illustrated  the  fact 
that  when  one  starts  down  a  weak-minded  grade  it 
is  so  diflicult  to  stop  suddenly. 


CHAPTER    XXI 

The  redbreasted  robin  is  flittin   and  bobbin 

Because  he  is  near  ready  to  fly 

To  the  land  that  he  knoius  is  made  green  by  the  snows 

That  are  melting  'neath  a  clear  blue  sky. 

We,  the  passengers  of  the  steamer  Santa  Ana, 
enjoyed  a  ride  on  Prince  William  Sound,  during  the 
balmy  days  of  the  spring  of  1902.  Alaska's  spring 
does  not  come  "  creeping,"  as  described  in  our  old 
school  books,  but  with  soft-footed  fleetness,  it  laugh- 
ingly bursts  upon  and  overwhelmingly  envelops 
you.  "  This  is  when  daylight  absorbs  the  night,  and 
transforms  it  into  balmy  loveliness,  and  with  arms 
affectionately  entwined,  wields  a  magic  wand,  while 
all  Nature  laughs  in  gleeful  responsiveness." 

The  balm  of  Gilead  buds  its  leaves,  the  devil  club 
opens  a  beautiful  sombrero  above  its  base  deceptions; 
the  skeleton-looking  alder  on  the  hillside  changes 
its  color  to  that  of  a  deep  tangled  wildwood,  where 
broad  leaves  tremble  in  wild  fandango  to  the  soft 
music  of  the  breeze.  Blooming  flowers  among  the 
green,  chase  the  receding  snow  up  the  mountain  sides 
to  where  the  silvery  fountains  murmur  applause,  as 
they  coquettishly  glance  down  at  you,  far  below. 

On  that  summer's  trip  into  the  interior  I  fell  intq 

259 


260       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

company  with  several  men,  among  whom  were  the 
Miles  brothers,  who  were  going  in  to  photograph 
scenery,  Indians  and  Immense  copper  properties 
for  Mr.  Millard  and  others.  The  first  day  out,  I 
attempted  to  knock  off  a  horse's  shoe  with  my  jaw, 
and  the  effort  put  me  to  sleep  for  two  hours,  and 
fractured  that  part  of  my  personal  property.  I 
subsisted  on  soup,  while  many  Incidents  of  the  trail 
passed  by  as  dim  dreams. 

We  crossed  the  Copper  River  and  spent  several 
weeks  camping  at  the  base  of  Mt.  Wrangell,  puffing 
from  its  top  great  clouds  of  smoke  and  steam, — 
mostly  steam.  Once,  with  a  powerful  binocular  I 
saw  a  considerable  area  that  was  bare  of  snow,  on 
the  west  side  of  the  mountain;  and  among  the 
broken  rock  masses  there  spouted  steam  jets,  or  gey- 
sers. The  Indians  claim  that  this  mountain  was 
once  much  higher  than  at  present  and  this  Is  cor- 
roborated by  its  flat,  level  summit,  and  also  by 
the  fact  that  Its  height  is  to-day  about  2000  feet 
lower  than  when  first  officially  reported.  The  crater 
is  a  flattened  area,  about  five  or  six  miles  across,  and 
for  months  there  is  but  a  small  barren  area  where 
the  geysers  spout. 

I  have  seen  great  puffs  of  black  smoke  arise  from 
it.  Indicating  the  falllng-In  of  the  sides  to  some  great 
depth.  It  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  moun- 
tain side  would  settle,  as  Its  interior  was  consumed. 

We  bartered  with  the  Indians  and  photographed 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       261 

them  while  they  grunted  and  made  faces  at  us;  and 
camped  on  the  bank  of  the  Kuskalina  River,  where 
the  colossal  monument  of  Mount  Blackburn  was 
plainly  visible.  Here  an  anticline  afforded  so  much 
interest  to  the  prospector,  with  its  lime  and  copper 
deposits,  that  I  remained  to  prospect,  and  bade  good- 
bye to  the  others,  who  proceeded  on  their  way. 

After  prospecting  a  week  I  mounted  my  sad- 
dle-horse, and  with  the  pack-horse  following,  started 
for  the  Nizina  country.  At  the  source  of  the  Laka- 
naw  River  hundreds  of  mountain  sheep  were  to 
be  seen,  like  white  specks  clinging  to  dizzy  heights. 
At  Fourth-of-July  Pass  I  ascended  a  mountain  for 
the  purpose  of  photographing  a  bear.  After  I  had 
returned  to  camp,  and  had  knocked  a  black  gnat 
off  of  my  eyebrow,  I  realized  that  I  had  failed  be- 
cause of  her  eagerness  to  place  herself  between  me 
and  her  cubs,  and  because  in  doing  so  her  actions 
had  indicated  that  she  intended  to  examine  my  kodak. 
With  a  snort  of  defiance,  she  came  on  with  a  rush, 
and  I,  accepting  the  challenge  for  a  foot-race,  left 
that  vicinity  in  great  haste.  I  had  been  three  hours 
climbing  up  that  mountain,  and  now  descended  It  in 
three  minutes.  As  I  was  hungry,  and  desired  to  re- 
turn to  camp  anyway,  it  is  probable  that  I  broke  the 
record  in  rapid  mountain-descent.  For  a  week  I 
camped  at  the  Big  Springs,  near  the  Kenekott  glacier 
' — a  prong  of  the  Wrangell  system  of  glaciers,  ex- 
tending far  back  among  the  mountains.    It  was  five 


262       Trailhig   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

miles  wide  and  continued  that  far  below  my  camp. 
It  would  repay  any  admirer  of  sublimity  capable  of 
roughing  it,  to  travel  thousands  of  miles  to  see  it, 
and  when  the  railroad  is  built  into  the  Bonanza  cop- 
per mine,  near  by,  it  will  be  one  of  the  greatest  at- 
tractions for  all  northern  tourists.  It  is  a  canyon 
filled  with  clear  blue  ice,  and  possesses  yawning  cre- 
vasses and  frowning  precipices. 

With  all  this  coldness  so  near,  the  weather  was 
warm,  the  birds  sang  in  the  near-by  trees,  flowers 
bloomed  and  the  horses  fed  on.  luxuriant  bunch-grass. 
A  few  scattering  spruce  trees  grew  on  the  adjoining 
foot-hills,  and  high  pinnacled  mountains  formed  the 
background  to  the  northwest,  where  variegated  min- 
eral ledges  and  dykes  always  will  tantalize  all  pros- 
pectors who  chance  to  camp  in  this  picturesque  lo- 
cality. I  prospected  there,  dug  holes  and  returned 
to  camp  tired,  but  mentally  interested  and  keen  for 
the  experiences  of  the  morrow. 

Just  across  that  glacier  was  where  Clarence  War- 
ner and  "  Arizona  Jack "  Smith  discovered  the 
greatest  copper  deposit  ever  naturally  disclosed  to 
the  eyes  of  man.  Seeing  a  green  area  high  on  the 
mountain,  they  climbed  until  nearly  exhausted  to 
reach  it,  and  at  last  stood  speechless  when  they  found 
that  patch  of  verdancy  to  be  copper  chalcocite  and 
bornite — any  prospector  would  have  been  speech- 
less at  such  a  discovery.  They  felt  as  if  their  minds 
had  wandered  to  some  mineralized  fairy-land.    Jack 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        263 

climbed  to  a  pinnacle  of  copper  and  sat  down  upon 
it,  to  overlook  the  scene  while  recovering  his  speech. 
When  it  came  to  him  he  soliloquized: 

"  By  all  the  mineral  gods  of  these  eternal  hills,  as 
this  is  the  mother  of  all  copper  I  christen  her 
*  Bonanza'  I  And  by  the  permission  of  the  mineral 
god  of  the  north,  she  shall  ever  reign  supreme !  " 

When  returning  to  camp  Jack  again  regained  his 
speech  enough  to  say: 

"  Clarence,  it's  no  use  to  look  for  more  copper — 
WE'VE  FOUND  IT  ALL!" 

The  photograph  here  submitted  shows  the  man  on 
the  pinnacle  and  the  Kenekott  glacier  five  miles 
wide  and  4000  feet  below.  The  white  shown  on 
the  ice  at  the  right  is  snow  that  will,  in  that  low  alti- 
tude, melt  off  before  the  close  of  the  summer. 

Valuable  property  always  is  coveted  by  others, 
and  more  than  $100,000  was  subsequently  spent  in 
defending  the  title  to  that  discovery.  I  am  credit- 
ably informed  that  the  lowest  expert  report  placed 
on  ore  in  sight  at  that  place  was  $25,000,000  in 
value.  This  is  but  one  of  a  hundred  valuable  copper 
deposits  in  that  Chitina  country.  While  these  moun- 
tains are  not  so  diversely  mineralized  as  the  Alaskan 
Range,  yet  it  is  a  most  wonderful  copper  country. 

When  the  Indians  gave  that  tributary  of  the  Ahtna, 
known  as  Copper  River,  the  name  of  Chitina,  (Cop- 
per River  in  their  language)  they  gave  to  Ameri- 
can posterity  a  name  that  always  will  be  familiar.     I 


264       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

believe  if  the  copper  deposits  of  this  Chltlna  coun- 
try were  opened  to  the  world's  markets,  and  all  other 
copper  mines  closed  down,  the  demand  for  copper 
could  be  supplied  by  that  part  of  Alaska  alone.  Ow- 
ing to  the  exceedingly  high  value  of  the  ore,  which 
is  mostly  chalcoclte,  bornlte  and  native  copper, 
Chitina  could  furnish  the  metal  at  a  figure  that  would 
allow  of  the  plating  of  every  ship  bottom,  and  the 
roofing  of  every  mansion  with  this  valuable  metal. 

If  it  be  not  bottled  up  by  a  railroad  company  that 
is  only  interested  In  the  development  of  its  own  prop- 
erties, that  country  is  destined  to  produce  the  bulk 
of  the  copper  used.  Its  copper  zone  extends  east- 
ward through  Wrangell  mountains  to  White  River 
and  the  White  Horse  countries;  and  westward  to  the 
coast  and  the  Islands  of  Prince  William  Sound,  and 
along  the  Kenai  and  Alaska  Peninsulas  as  far  as 
Chignik  Bay.  While  the  ores  of  the  coast  are  of  a 
lower  grade,  generally  being  chalcopyrite,  their  ac- 
cessibility admits  of  their  rapid  development. 

Just  below  the  Big  Springs,  I  met  "  Arizona  Jack," 
the  discoverer  of  the  Bonanza  mine,  and  I  requested 
him  to  point  out  its  location. 

"  Thar  she  are,"  he  replied,  "  just  across  the  gla- 
cier thar !  and  by  the  eternal  Pokle  Moses,  she  hasn't 
moved  an  inch  since  I  first  found  her!  " 

The  trail  descended  alongside  of  the  glacier,  and 
then  led  up  over  morainic  hills,  above  where  the 
Kenekott  River  boils  from  beneath  the  glacier  like 


< 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       265 

an  artesian  well.  Two  more  high  summits  were 
crossed;  two  more  lonely  camps  were  made;  the 
Nizina  River  was  forded  and  I  was  standing  beside 
the  rich  sluice  boxes  of  the  Chititu  (Copper  water). 
This  is  a  very  good  gold-placer  camp. 

From  the  source  of  the  Nizina  River,  Rohn  and 
McNear  started,  in  1899,  on  the  reckless  undertak- 
ing of  crossing  the  Wrangell  icefield — the  most  ex- 
tensive in  the  north — over  to  the  Tanana.  For  fifteen 
days  they  traveled  and  slept  on  ice,  ate  frozen  food, 
suffered  with  snow  blindness,  and  wandered  among 
crevasses,  accomplishing  in  the  end  one  of  the  most 
daring  feats  ever  undertaken. 

The  report  of  that  journey  was  printed  in  the 
public  document  entitled,  "  The  Copper  River  Ex- 
ploring Expedition  of  1899." 

Sharp  mountain  peaks  stick  out  of  that  icefield 
and  on  them  can  be  found  mountain  sheep  and  ptar- 
migan. Its  sixteen  lobes  of  ice  extend  down  to  the 
valleys  and  form  the  sources  of  as  many  rivers. 

For  days  I  traveled  alone,  ate  ptarmigan,  and  was 
often  rain-chilled.  On  my  return  I  again  fell  into 
company  with  the  photographing  party,  and  on  Nug- 
get Creek  we  were  photographed  beside  a  large  nug- 
get of  pure  copper  metal  that  evidently  weighed 
many  tons. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

My  horses  will  be  grazing  in  the  twilight  of  the  sun. 

And  by  the  campfire's  blazing,  where  the  glacier  rivers  run. 

My  tent  ropes  will  be  swinging,  for  I'll  there  unroll  the 

pack. 
And  listen  to  the  singing  of  the  white  bird's  call,  "  Come 

back!" 

On  my  return,  I  separated  from  my  companions 
again  in  order  to  travel  and  prospect  alone.  A  cold, 
dismal  and  rainy  night  came  on,  and  to  avoid  camp- 
ing near  some  very  repulsive-looking  Indians,  I  made 
a  forced  march  to  another  locality.  I  crawled  on 
my  hands  and  knees  In  the  dark,  feeling  for  the 
trail,  as  it  was  leading  along  a  bluff,  looo  feet  above 
the  canyon,  and  by  it  I  was  to  descend. 

Unfortunately,  one  of  the  horses  caved  off  an 
embankment  and  tumbled  and  rolled  down  about 
a  hundred  feet  into  a  side-gulch.  I  turned  one  horse 
loose  and  spent  some  time  descending  to  the  other, 
which  was  found  lying  on  his  back  in  the  bottom  of 
the  ravine.  I  rolled  him  further  down,  took  off 
his  pack  and  found  that  he  had  not  even  been 
scratched.  It  is  remarkable  how  far  a  mustang  will 
roll  and  tumble,  with  a  pack  beneath  him  for  pro- 
tection. 

266 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        267 

Spreading  a  "  tarp  "  (canvas)  over  the  packs,  I 
unrolled  my  sleeping-bag  and  soon  was  ensconced 
comfortably  therein,  while  it  rained  and  the  horses 
looked  for  feed.  The  next  morning  I  discovered  that 
I  had  slept  on  a  ledge  of  copper  ore.  This  has  since 
been  developed  and  sold  to  some  New  York  pur- 
chasers. 

A  few  days  later,  I  left  my  camp,  traveled  over 
moss-covered  ground,  beneath  shady  forest  trees, 
ascended  above  timber  line,  and  at  noon  was  on  the 
summit  of  a  high  rocky  ridge.  From  that  place  the 
horses,  feeding  near  camp,  looked  like  small  specks, 
far  below.  Summer  was  kissing  the  northland  its 
lingering  farewell.  While  looking  on  the  beautifully 
mottled  picture  of  the  valleys  my  attention  was  at- 
tracted to  a  near-by  scene,  across  a  defile,  not  a  hun- 
dred yards  away.  There  stood  a  big-horn  sheep, 
but  he  quickly  ascended  a  steep  Incline  and  passed 
over  the  ridge.  Then  a  smaller  one  appeared  In 
view,  from  around  a  sharp  point,  and  attempted  to 
follow;  but  a  bullet  from  my  automatic  pistol  broke 
his  back  and  he  rolled  down  on  a  shelf  of  rock. 
There  was  a  fragrant  odor  arising  from  my  camp, 
after  that,  and  it  was  neither  from  spruce  hen  nor 
ptarmigan. 

How  cruel  Is  man !  I  well  remember  killing  my 
last  antelope,  an  event  which  happened  In  California. 
It  looked  up,  and  Its  pleading  eyes  and  its  bleat  for 
mercy  at  the  finale  caused  me,  then  and  there,  to 


268        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

resolve  never  to  kill  another  antelope.  This  reso- 
lution has  been  sacredly  observed. 

Right  here,  let  me  make  a  statement  about  wild 
animals  with  a  view  to  correcting  a  few  false  opin- 
ions that  have  been  formed  by  books  of  fiction.  The 
danger  of  man's  being  attacked  by  wild  animals  is 
not  nearly  so  great  as  is  generally  believed.  The 
ridiculous  statements  in  regard  to  their  furious  dis- 
position are  as  false  generally  as  a  recent  fiction  about 
a  dog  killing  a  bear.  No  dog  that  ever  walked  on 
legs  could  kill  a  full-grown  wolverine,  much  less  a 
bear. 

In  Alaska  there  are  grizzly  bears  of  various  colors. 
The  white  tip  ends  of  their  long  hair  along  the  neck, 
shoulders  and  back  gives  them  a  silvery-tinged  color, 
and  consequently  they  are  referred  to  as  the  "  sil- 
vertip  grizzlies."  One  writer  has  said  that  we  have 
no  grizzlies  in  Alaska,  but  that  they  are  brown  or 
cinnamon  bears.  Another  says  we  have  cinnamon, 
black,  silvertips  and  grizzlies.  To  the  experienced 
hunter  that  statement  is  positively  ridiculous.  The 
cinnamon  brown  and  the  blue  and  even  the  silvertip 
are  the  color  distinctions  applied  to  the  grizzly  bears. 
The  glacier  bear  is  not  always  blue,  but  frequently 
is  of  a  creamy  yellowish  color.  I  never  have  seen 
the  real  brown  species  in  Alaska,  but  believe  it  to 
be  there,  and  am  told  by  reliable  hunters  that  it  is 
to  be  found  on  the  Southeastern  Islands.  All  brown 
bears  that  I  have  killed  were  brown  silvertipped 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        2G9 

grizzlies.  The  grizzly  bear  has  a  hump  on  his  shoul- 
ders,— at  least  it  appears  as  such,  but  that  is  only 
the  long  hair  and  the  height  of  his  shoulder-blades. 
He  has  longer  claws  even  when  a  little  cub,  than  has 
the  full-grown  black  bear.  The  American  black 
bear  will  readily  climb  a  tree,  but  a  grizzly  does  not. 

When  the  Pacific  Coast  grizzly  is  annoyed  by 
mosquitoes  he  will  fight  a  windmill,  or  even  the  great 
American,  Mr.  Roosevelt.  A  man  who  would  take 
a  cub  from  its  live  silvertipped  grizzly  mother  would 
require  a  headboard  inscription  to  tell  his  friends 
about  it.  I  have  seen  a  bear  with  one  brown  and 
one  black  cub,  and  both  were  grizzlies.  There  are 
many  American  black  bears  along  Alaska's  coast, 
and  they  are  harmless. 

To  the  long-clawed,  blunt-nosed,  humpbacked,  sil- 
vertipped grizzly  I  take  off  my  hat,  or  jump  from 
under  it.  He  is  a  king  among  beasts.  He  may  run 
away  to-day,  and  fight  to-morrow,  as  he  is  governed 
by  moods.  Like  all  semi-carnivorous  animals,  even 
man,  he  is  more  disagreeable  when  eating  meat  than 
at  other  times.  One  should  not  rush  too  sud- 
denly upon  a  bear  that  is  eating  fish,  nor  should  one 
ever  go  between  a  grizzly  bear  and  her  cubs. 

A  bear  will  not  lie  in  wait  in  a  cowardly  manner, 
but  squarely  meets  an  opponent  and,  unless  first  badly 
enraged  by  having  been  hurt,  he  never  touches  an 
enemy  after  knocking  him  senseless.  Of  course,  a 
very  few  exceptions  may  be  admitted,  as  we  are  In- 


270       Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

dined  to  generalize  too  much  instead  of  individual- 
izing when  describing  wild  animals. 

The  bear  is  the  most  honorable  fighter  among  wild 
animals,  and  experienced  hunters  entertain  respect 
for  him  because  of  these  principles.  It  is  reasonable 
to  suppose  that  the  disposition  of  wild  animals  would 
change  when  in  captivity.  The  practice  of  telling 
children  that  bears  will  eat  them  is  as  ridiculous  as  it 
is  false,  for  they  do  not  eat  human  beings.  I  have 
awakened  in  the  morning  and  found  near  my  bed 
their  tracks  that  had  been  made  during  the  night, 
but  as  not  one  in  one  thousand  would  disturb  a  man 
when  asleep  I  thought  nothing  of  it.  The  Pacific 
Coast  grizzly,  that  has  roamed  from  Mexico  to 
Alaska,  often  measures  more  than  twelve  feet  long, 
and  is  much  larger  and  more  dangerous  than  the 
little   Rocky  Mountain   grizzly. 

Mr.  Grant  Chase,  who  now  lives  in  Seattle,  has 
killed  a  great  many  of  both  kinds  of  bears,  and  his 
list  Includes  an  Alaska  grizzly  that  measured  nearly 
14  feet  from  tip  of  nose  to  tip  of  tail.  That  bear 
was  as  large  probably  as  two  full-grown  Rocky 
Mountain  grizzlies.  I  have  heard  of  bears  that 
measured  more  than  14  feet  in  length.  The  picture 
here  represents  a  photograph  of  a  skin  from  one  that 
was  12  feet  long  and  weighed  1200  pounds  without 
the  blood.  This  was  taken  in  the  camp  of  L.  L. 
Bales,  on  Alaska  Peninsula,  and  affadavits  as  to  the 
weight  of  that  bear  can  be  obtained.     Mr.  Bales 


Co 


9 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       271 

claims  that  the  condition  of  the  bear  could  have 
easily  been  improved  to  the  weight  of  1600  pounds, 
as  he  was  not  fat  when  weighed. 

There  appear  to  be  two  distinct  kinds  of  grizzlies; 
one  with  a  long  and  straight  head  and  the  other  with 
a  shorter  but  wider  head,  and  with  a  depression 
below  the  eyes.  Owing  to  the  fact  that  these  latter 
root  or  dig  with  their  noses  after  chauce  root,  they 
have  the  nose  very  blunt  sometimes,  and  therefore 
the  hunters  refer  to  them  as  the  "  Hog-nosed"  griz- 
zlies. 

That  kind  of  a  grizzly,  when  met  with,  ignorant 
of  the  consequences  of  an  encounter  with  a  white 
man  and  his  improved  guns,  is  very  dangerous.  It 
is  probable  that  no  less  than  100  men  have  been 
killed  by  the  Pacific  Coast  grizzly  during  the  last 
fifty  years. 

Writers  of  fiction  have  given  out  a  false  education 
and  have  caused  many  pitiable  cowards.  I  have 
known  men,  old  enough  to  know  better,  remain 
awake  all  night  because  of  the  howling  of  wolves 
near  by.  Wolves  are  afraid  of  man.  Once  I  found 
the  body  of  a  man  who  had  been  dead  for  weeks, 
where  wolves  had  beaten  a  trail  around  the  body, 
and  although  the  shredded  clothing  indicated  that 
they  had  snapped  that  close,  yet  the  body  was  un- 
harmed. 

I  have  shot  a  wolf  from  my  bed  upon  awakening 
in  the  morning.     With  revolver  in  hand,  I  have  ap- 


272       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

proached,  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  near  to  where 
their  howling  sounded  as  if  there  were  a  baker's 
dozen  of  them.  Although  I  ran  short  distances,  and 
acted  as  if  I  were  afraid  of  them,  I  could  not  per- 
suade one  of  them  to  come  nearer  to  me  than  twenty 
steps,  and  those  were  Alaska  gray  wolves,  too. 

No  doubt  hungry  wolves  have  followed  people 
for  the  food  they  were  carrying,  and  those  people 
have  fully  believed  that  they  were  after  their  per- 
sons. It  is  very  probable  that  the  peasants  of  Rus- 
sia, who  had  no  other  weapons  but  whips  and  fire- 
brands, did  train  many  packs  of  wolves  to  follow 
them  in  that  way,  and,  of  course,  any  lone  traveler 
would  have  been  in  danger  from  those  particular 
packs.  Naturally,  the  more  wolves  there  are  to- 
gether, the  more  courageous  they  become,  and  there 
is  real  danger  from  very  large  and  hungry  packs. 

Wolves  do  worry  the  large  animals,  however,  and 
they  weaken  moose  by  not  allowing  them  to  eat, 
until  by  the  aid  of  starvation  they  are  enabled  to 
cut  their  hamstrings  and  let  them  down,  when  the 
killing  of  the  moose  is  easily  accomplished. 

A  mountain  lion,  or  any  of  the  panther  species, 
will  not  prowl  too  near  a  man,  even  at  night-time. 
They  will  come  within  thirty  or  forty  steps  of  one, 
if  there  be  fresh  meat  at  that  place,  and  I  have  heard 
them  snarling  when  gnawing  bones  that  near  to 
camp.  There  is  positively  no  danger  to  grown  men 
from  panther  or  lynx  unless  when  they  are  defend- 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        273 

ing  themselv^es  or  their  kittens.  Women  or  children 
may  be  attacked  by  them.  A  lynx  sprang  upon  a 
woman  who  was  in  a  milking  corral  near  San  Diego, 
CaL,  in  1869.  One  of  Mr.  Balanger's  daughters 
was  In  like  manner  attacked  while  milking  a  cow  in 
San  Luis,  Obispo  County,  California,  In  1884.  Mrs. 
Julia  Holloway,  now  living  near  Bakersfield,  In  that 
State,  was  attacked  by  a  small  lynx,  or  bob-cat,  and 
managed  to  beat  It  to  death  with  a  rock,  after  being 
badly  bitten  and  scratched.  The  lynx  Is  much  braver 
than  the  panther,  although  he  is  smaller. 

It  is  probable  that  I  have  kicked  one  hundred 
lynx  out  of  trees  to  be  killed  by  dogs.  Sometimes, 
If  you  are  climbing  up  directly  under  one,  he  may 
jump  on  you,  but  only  after  giving  you  warning  by 
growling,  I  have  seen  one  large  lynx  whip  six  dogs 
to  a  standstill,  but  that  was  because  the  dogs  knew 
not  how  to  kill  a  lynx.  After  he  had  done  that,  my 
little  black-and-tan  hound,  although  much  smaller 
than  the  lynx,  bravely  walked  in  and  had  the  lynx 
kicking  his  last  within  a  minute  of  time. 

While  I  am  describing  wild  animals,  I  will  say  a 
word  about  the  fox.  Eastern  hunters  will  laugh  at 
any  one  who  says  a  fox  will  climb  a  tree.  That  Is 
because  the  eastern  fox  does  not  climb  trees. 

The  California  fox  climbs  trees,  and  this  fact  can- 
not be  denied.  Even  after  I  had  killed  many  foxes, 
I  thought  that  they  only  managed  to  ascend  the  trees 
by  jumping  from  limb  to  limb,  but  afterwards  I 


274        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

found  that  my  hounds  put  them  up  trees  that  were 
straight,  and  that  they  climbed  forty  feet  from  the 
ground  before  they  found  a  Hmb  on  which  to  rest. 

The  wolverine  is  the  most  peculiar  animal  of  all. 
When  he  desires  to  be,  he  is  just  as  sly  and  cunning 
as  the  panther,  yet,  when  emboldened  by  eating  meat, 
he  appears  oblivious  to  danger,  and  will  stand  by 
the  side  of  a  dead  animal's  carcass  and  growl,  while 
a  man  walks  within  a  few  steps  of  him.  He  is  re- 
markably vicious  and  puts  up  a  very  bad  fight  when 
cornered.  He  can  whip  a  whole  pack  of  wolves,  and 
it  has  been  said,  and  I  believe  it,  that  he  can  whip 
the  little  American  black  bear. 

A  peculiar  incident  happened  here  In  my  camp, 
and  as  it  refers  to  a  wolverine,  I  will  here  relate  It. 
I  had  thrown  the  neck  of  the  sheep  on  the  ground, 
but  a  few  paces  from  the  foot  of  my  bed,  and  re- 
tired to  sleep  with  my  head  much  higher  than  my 
feet,  so  as  to  command  a  good  view  of  my  surround- 
ings. Unfortunately,  I  was  traveling  without  a  dog, 
as  I  had  sent  little  Pete  down  to  California.  This 
no  one  should  do  when  frontlering  alone,  as  a  dog 
Is  a  very  useful  companion. 

When  awakening  the  next  morning,  what  should 
I  see  standing  at  the  foot  of  my  bed  but  a  wolverine. 
He  was  showing  his  white  teeth,  looking  at  me,  and 
with  his  long  red  tongue  licking  his  chops  in  what  I 
construed  to  be  a  menacing  attitude.  As  his  large 
vicious-looking  yellow  eyes  gazed  squarely  Into  mine, 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        275 

instinctively  I  closed  my  hand  upon  my  bedfellow 
friend,  the  pistol,  and  slowly  raised  it  until  the  sights 
passed  up  between  the  nostrils,  then  followed  up  to 
the  brain.  Immediately  there  was  a  report  and  a 
dead  wolverine  in  camp. 

For  some  time  I  lay  there  trying  mentally  to 
solve  the  mystery,  and  finally  succeeded.  It  was 
evident  that  he  was  not  thrusting  out  his  tongue  and 
showing  his  white  teeth  as  a  hostile  demonstration 
towards  me  because  I  had  awakened,  as  first  I  was 
led  to  suppose,  but  because  he  had  just  been  tearing 
the  meat  from  the  sheep-neck  near  by,  and  was  then 
contemplating  an  attempt  to  secure  some  more  meat, 
which  was  hanging  to  a  limb  near  my  head.  It 
was  the  taste  of  meat  and  his  eagerness  for  more 
that  had  caused  his  boldness.  Whatever  may  have 
been  his  peaceable  intentions,  his  attitude,  his  wicked 
yellow  eyes,  his  white  teeth  and  his  long  red  tongue, 
had  all  contributed  to  emphasize  one  of  the  scenes 
that  I  shall  never  forget. 

The  horses  gave  their  bells  an  extra  rattle,  about 
two  hundred  yards  from  camp,  then  they  could  be 
heard  approaching.  Horses  that  have  been  used 
for  hunting  take  a  human-like  interest  in  such  things, 
and  show  inquisitiveness.  When  they  arrived  in 
camp,  the  smell  of  the  wolverine  made  them  so  rest- 
less that  they  were  saddled  with  difficulty. 

After  breakfast,  I  mounted  my  saddle-horse  and 
with  pack-horse  following,  proceeded  on  my  way. 


276       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

About  two  miles  from  there  I  met  two  Indian  squaws, 
and  when  they  were  told  where  they  could  find  a 
dead  wolverine,  they  hurried  on  with  the  prospect 
of  obtaining  the  skin.  The  Indians  place  a  high 
value  on  the  skin  of  the  wolverine,  as  they  claim  that 
It  is  the  only  fur  on  which  the  breath  will  not  freeze. 
With  it,  they  border-fringe  the  parkie,  where  it  is 
worn  near  the  face. 

Upon  arriving  on  the  bank  of  the  Copper,  the  wind 
was  blowing  harder  than  I  had  ever  experienced  it 
in  that  country.  It  was  a  long  time  before  I  could 
attract  the  attention  of  the  Indians  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river,  as  they  could  not  hear  the  firing 
of  a  gun  so  far  across  the  wind  and  water.  Finally 
they  came  down  to  the  bank,  launched  a  canoe,  and 
in  a  short  time  the  horses  were  swimming  for  the 
other  shore,  and  we  were  paddling  in  pursuit. 

I  found  a  cabin  in  which  I  was  sheltered  for  two 
days,  while  the  wind  blew  trees  down  near  by.  Old 
Doctor  Bellum,  an  Indian  doctor,  came  in  and  en- 
tertained me  for  hours,  narrating  interesting  details 
about  his  people's  traditions  and  superstitions.  He 
told  of  the  war  with  the  Tananas;  how  one  night 
the  Tananas  quietly  came  down  the  river,  and  at 
daylight  disclosing  themselves  in  battle  array,  began 
firing  on  the  Ahtnas.  They  killed  about  forty  of 
the  Copper  River  Indians,  but  the  remainder  re- 
treated to  the  wood,  deployed  in  the  mountain  passes, 
and  killed  thirty  of  the  Tananas  on  their  return. 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        277 

He  said  the  breath  of  Mount  Wrangell  (Una- 
letta)  was  poison;  that  the  smoke  from  its  crater 
once  descended  and  killed  several  Indians  when  they 
were  sitting  around  their  campfire,  near  the  mouth 
of  the  Tulsona,  and  that  the  Indians  had  accused 
him  of  causing  the  catastrophe.  He  employed  Una- 
letta's  smoke,  he  said,  as  a  threat  to  control  bad 
characters;  and  he  informed  me  that  Chief  Nicoli  had 
once  sent  six  Indians  up  to  examine  the  crater.  That 
had  happened  "eleven  snows  yesterday"  (1891), 
and  they  had  not  yet  returned,  but  "  may-be-so  some 
time  come  back."  Four  others  had  gone  in  search 
of  the  six,  and  two  of  them,  while  looking  over  into 
the  crater,  had  fallen  dead  from  the  effects  of  the 
poison  they  had  breathed.  Then  he  talked  of  the 
superstition  of  the  Indians,  and  said  they  believed 
that  he  could  look  right  through  them  and  discover 
their  wickedness. 

Presently  another  tall  Indian  came  in  and  intro- 
duced himself  as  Eselota,  whereupon  Bellum  mod- 
estly retired,  possibly  because  he  knew  Eselota  was 
somewhat  of  a  liar  himself.  As  Eselota  wore  a  long 
beard  and  had  the  features  of  a  white  man,  he  was 
asked  if  he  were  not  partly  Russian.  He  seemed  to 
entertain  doubts,  unless  his  people  had  come  from 
Russia  long  before  the  other  Russians  had  known 
of  the  country.  He  said  his  people,  the  Suslotas, 
were  all  as  tall  as  he,  and  wore  long  beards.  Twenty- 
four  Russians,  he  declared,  had  once  ascended  the 


278       Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

Copper  River  on  the  ice.  They  were  so  abusive  that 
the  Indians  had  been  compelled  to  kill  them  in  their 
camp,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Tazlina  River.  They 
had  knocked  the  Russians  in  the  head  with  rocks, 
while  they  were  asleep,  but  had  let  two  of  them 
escape  to  tell  the  others,  so  that  the  Russians  never 
again  would  molest  the  tribe. 

This  statement  was  corroborated  by  an  old  Rus- 
sian who  claimed  that  he  was  one  of  the  two  men 
who  had  been  released.  This  old  man  died  recently 
at  Tatetlik. 

Those  Indians  seemed  very  much  attached  to  their 
3000  acres  tract  of  river-bottom  land,  and  the  gov- 
ernment should  protect  them  in  their  ownership  of  It. 
Their  little  homes  and  sacred  graveyards  should  be 
insured  against  the  white  invaders  who  are  disposed 
to  divest  them  too  often,  not  only  of  their  property 
rights,  but  also  of  their  morals. 

When  I  rode  up  the  trail  that  ascended  the  escarp 
of  the  river's  deep  channel,  I  paused  and  looked  back 
on  that  almost  unknown  little  valley  and  wondered 
if  those  clay  banks  could  talk,  what  stories  of  life, 
romance  and  death  they  could  relate. 

That  summer  had  been  an  unlucky  one  for  I  had 
arranged  to  accompany  the  Indian,  Gokona  Charley, 
to  a  great  copper  deposit.  He  had  failed  to  appear 
the  year  before,  because  of  sickness  In  his  family, 
but  as  they  had  all  died,  he  was  now  left  alone  to 
disclose  the  secret.    He  was  willing  to  do  so  on  con- 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       279 


dition  that  if  it  were  worth  it  to  me,  I  should  take 
him  out  of  the  Copper  River  country,  so  that  he 
would  never  see  it  again.  We  were  to  meet  on 
August  I,  but  on  the  way  to  our  appointed  ren- 
dezvous, he  was  drowned  in  the  Tazlina  River, 
on  July  28.  The  secret  was  lost,  and  so  was 
an    Indian    friend   whom    I   had   known    for    four 

years. 

I  had  often  noted  his  tracks  and  those  of  his 
family  as  they  moved  from  one  hunting-ground  to 
another,  and  had  seen  their  abandoned  camps,  where 
In  their  all-too-brief  period  of  childish  happiness, 
his  little  ones  had  built  playhouses  (wickiups). 
Charley  had  watched  his  children  die,  one  at  a  time, 
and  then  had  seen  his  wife  succumb  to  consumption. 
With  loving  hands  he  had  laid  her  to  rest  beside 
their  children,  and  with  tearful  eyes  had  followed 
the  lonely  trail  leading  away  from  their  decorated 
graves,  never  to  return. 

The  great  Mongol  Emperor,  Shah  Jehan,  of  In- 
dia, erected  the  Taj  Mahal,  the  most  costly  bejeweled 
tomb  on  the  globe,  to  the  memory  of  his  beloved 
wife.  Queen  Muntazi  Mahal.  He  did  all  that  he 
could  to  express  his  grief,  yet  he  did  no  more  than 
did  poor  Gokona  Charley,  for  he,  too,  did  the  best 
he  could. 

Several  persons  lost  their  lives  exploring  that  sum- 
mer: Thos.  Conally  was  drowned  in  the  Kotsina 
River;  Horace  Tuffin  and  Mr.  Riley  had  been  frozen 


280       Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

to  death  during  the  previous  winter,  and  a  few  were 
drowned  in  the  Chitina. 

One  day  I  heard  shooting  at  intervals  a  short  dis- 
tance ahead,  and  presently  saw  seven  rabbits  hang- 
ing to  a  tree.  Those  Rocky  Mountain  snowshoe 
rabbits  were  quite  plentiful,  but  an  Indian  could  kill 
a  dozen  of  them  while  an  average  white  man  was 
killing  one.  Stealthily  following,  I  soon  came  upon 
an  old  Indian,  with  a  boy  walking  behind  and  drag- 
ging two  rabbits  by  the  heels.  Presently,  as  the  old 
Indian  approached  a  patch  of  brush,  he  stopped 
and  began  to  make  a  peculiar  noise !  then  bang !  went 
the  gun  and  over  tumbled  a  rabbit.  As  I  came  up, 
I  laughingly  said  that  I  knew  how  it  was  that  an 
Indian  could  kill  more  rabbits  than  a  white  man.  He 
replied: 

"  White  man,  he  no  sabe  how  to  call  'em.  Me 
know  how  to  talk  rabbit-talk." 

The  trail,  on  my  return,  was  lined  with  stampeders 
for  the  Nizina  country,  who  made  their  poor  horses 
carry  packs  as  far  as  they  were  able  to  go,  and  then 
shot  them  or  left  them  to  starve.  I  found  one  ex- 
hausted horse  lying  in  the  trail  In  such  a  place  that 
It  was  necessary  to  shoot  him  In  order  to  pass  by. 
While  he  struggled  In  death  his  body  went  rolling 
and  tumbling  down  one  hundred  feet  Into  the  Tekell 
River. 

The  Geological  Survey  boys  that  season  had  about 


Trailing   and    Camping  in   Alaska        281 

finished  up  their  work  in  that  part  of  the  country. 
Too  much  credit  cannot  be  given  to  Schrader,  Brooks, 
Mendenhall  and  others  for  their  industry  in  map- 
ping the  land;  and  to  M.  P.  Ritter  and  others  of 
the  Geodetic  Survey  for  their  diligence  in  charting 
the  waters  of  our  northern  possessions. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

A  philosophical  Indian  once  described  the  world  as  an 
animal,  vegetation  as  hair,  all  living  things  as  vermin,  and 
a  volcano  as  a  "  sore  place." 

Those  Indians,  commonly  called  Sticks,  should 
bear  their  original  name  of  Ahtna.  Their  name  of 
Stick  was  evidently  derived  from  the  English  word 
stick,  which  they  apply  to  forests,  trees  and  logs, 
and  the  definition  of  the  name,  as  applied  to  them. 
Is  "  Woodsmen."  Sub-chief  Stickman  derived  his 
name  from  the  fact  that  he  built  a  log  cabin  in  which 
to  live,  in  preference  to  the  uncomfortable  tepee. 

Their  real,  or  former,  name  was  Ahtna,  but 
whether  or  not  they  are  related  to  the  Ahtnas  of  the 
upper  Frazer  River,  and  the  Apaches  of  Arizona, 
who  possess  a  part  of  their  vocabulary,  probably 
never  will  be  known. 

These  Indians  will  steal  only  when  driven  to  it 
by  starvation.  Like  all  Indians,  they  were  better 
before  the  whites  discovered  them  than  after 
they  have  accepted  the  white  man's  vices  and  re- 
jected his  virtues.  Their  deplorable  condition  seems 
to  be  the  result  of  natural  inclination. 

An  old  Indian  seemed  very  much  disappointed 
when  he  was  Informed  that  the  military  would  not 

282 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        283 

employ  Indians  to  work  on  the  trail.  He  said  he 
preferred  that  the  Indians  should  work  for  what  they 
got,  rather  than  to  obtain  it  by  begging.  A  few  In- 
dians earned  a  livelihood  by  running  ferries  across 
the  rivers,  but  white  men  secured  licenses  for  that 
privilege  and  took  the  industry  away  from  them. 

An  old  Indian  once  explained  to  me  that  his  father 
had  lived  and  died  on  the  spot  he  was  then  occu- 
pying, and  there  he  intended  to  live  and  die.  Six 
months  after  that  some  white  men  took  possession 
of  his  sacred  spot  and  drove  him  farther  up  the 
river.  It  is  the  same  old  story  of  the  white  man's 
injustice  to  the  Indian — a  story  which  should  bring 
the  blush  of  shame  to  all  Americans.  When  those 
Indians  discover  that  they  are  discriminated  against, 
they  become  discouraged,  mean  and  sullen.  Intellec- 
tually, the  Copper  River  Indians  are  superior  to  any 
other  Indians  I  have  ever  met.  They  are  quick  to 
learn,  and  are  naturally  musical  and  also  humor- 
ous. 

While  an  Indian's  humor  is  of  a  quiet  and  grim 
sort,  it  often  means  much.  Once  a  companion  of 
mine  was  fooling  with  a  crowd  of  them,  and  play- 
ing a  few  of  his  many  tricks.  He  had  a  sewing 
machine  bobbin  and  around  it  he  had  wound  about 
thirty  feet  of  silk  ribbon.  He  placed  this  spool  in 
his  mouth  when  unobserved,  and  began  to  pull  out 
the  ribbon,  an  inch  at  a  time.  The  Indians  swarmed 
around  as  he  slowly  unwound  it,  until  he  had  piled 


284        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

up  about  twenty  feet  of  ribbon,  when  one  of  the  In- 
dians approached  me  and  said: 

"  Say,  you  come  look  see  I  White  man  hiyu  (very) 
sick!" 

"  No,  he  no  sick,"  I  replied. 

"You  say  he  ha-lo   (not)   sick?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  he  ha-lo  sick,"  I  answered. 

"  All  right,  he  ha-lo  sick,  by  and  by  he  make  'em 
blanket!"  replied  the  Indian,  as  he  solemnly  re- 
joined the  spectators. 

These  Indians  dig  a  wild  parsnip  root  they 
call  "  chauce,"  and  it  is  their  only  farinacious  diet. 
Often  during  the  long  winters  they  consume  all  their 
supplies  of  "  chauce "  and  dried  salmon,  and  are 
then  compelled  to  subsist  on  the  inner  bark  of  trees, 
the  juices  of  which  they  swallow.  It  may  be  that 
this  is  the  prime  cause  of  the  black  vomit  which, 
they  claim,  has  killed  off  so  many  of  them  during 
the  last  fifty  years.  The  last  appearance  of  that  dis- 
ease was  among  the  Indians  at  the  source  of  the 
White  River.  It  was  always  fatal,  causing  a  destruc- 
tion of  the  mucous  membrane  of  the  stomach.  How- 
ever, their  having  eaten  the  inner  bark  of  trees  may 
not  have  been  the  cause  of  the  black  vomit,  as  that 
custom  has  been  general  among  all  Indians  through- 
out the  timbered  regions  in  the  United  States.  It 
is  more  probable  that  it  was  caused  by  the  sudden 
change  in  springtime,  from  starvation  to  a  period 
of  gormandizing. 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       285 

An  Indian  will  not  give  anything  to  another's 
wife,  not  even  something  to  eat;  that  is,  he  would 
not  directly  do  so,  but  he  might  pass  the  article  to  a 
child  to  hand  to  the  squaw,  because  the  child  is  in- 
nocent. He  believes  that  if  he  gave  her  anything 
directly,  the  action  would  bring  down  on  him  a 
spell  of  sickness,  or  that  some  harm  would  befall 
him. 

In  more  ancient  times,  their  marriage  ceremonies 
were  accompanied  with  a  feast  given  by  the  bride's 
parents,  when  the  bridegroom  presented  them  with 
all  he  could  afford,  to  show  to  them  his  appreciation 
of  their  daughter.  When  the  custom  is  now  ob- 
served, the  groom  sings  a  verse  of  a  song  after 
the  feast,  pleading  with  the  girl  to  go  with  him,  as 
he  has  stored  ample  provisions  for  the  coming  win- 
ter, and  is  strong  and  willing  to  hunt,  and  to  care 
for  her  when  she  is  old. 

The  girl  then  sings  a  song  wherein  she  announces 
her  parental  love  and  her  content  with  her  existing 
conditions.  Then  he  answers  that  his  canoe  is 
moored  to  the  river  bank,  and  if  she  had  come  with 
him  their  trip  on  the  water  would  have  represented 
their  life  together;  but  as  she  has  refused,  he  will 
go  down  the  river  alone,  and  in  his  wickiup  moan 
for  the  one  he  loves. 

He  bids  them  good-bye  and  before  he  unties  his 
canoe,  he  generally  finds  that  she  has  followed  him, 


286        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

and  in  the  moonlight,  their  friends  from  the  shore 
watch  the  two  paddle  down  the  river  together. 

Like  some  white  women,  the  squaws  wear  rings 
in  their  ears,  and  often  go  their  whtte  sisters  one 
better  by  wearing  them  in  their  noses. 

At  one  moment  these  Indians  surprise  you  with 
their  cleanliness  by  their  regular  bathing  habits,  and 
the  next  astonish  you  with  their  filthy  ways.  They 
carry  a  cud  of  tobacco  in  a  little  tin  box.  They  will 
take  this  out  and  chew  it  for  a  few  minutes,  and 
then,  if  near  a  fire,  they  will  roll  it  in  the  ashes  and 
replace  it  in  the  box  to  absorb  lye  and  strength  for 
future  use.  Often  this  cud  is  passed  around  to 
others  who  may  be  present,  but  after  they  have,  in 
turn,  chewed  the  morsel,  it  is  returned  to  the  owner. 
An  Indian  child  will  beg  for  tobacco  with  as  much 
persistency  as  a  white  child  for  candy.  It  is  really 
from  the  Indian  that  we  learned  our  tobacco  habits. 

An  Indian  seldom  has  a  plurality  of  wives,  and 
when  he  does,  he  apologetically  explains  that  the 
last  one  was  formerly  a  wife  of  some  friend  who 
died,  and  that  he  took  her  to  support  until  she  had 
found  another  husband;  but  the  fact  is,  she  is  gen- 
erally the  one  who  does  the  supporting. 

When  these  Indians  break  up  camp  to  go  on  a 
hunt,  or  to  some  trading-post,  they  indicate  how 
many  persons  have  departed  and  the  course  that 
they  took  by  sticking  a  pole  in  the  ground  for  each 
person,  and  leaning  it  in  the  direction  he  has  gone. 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska        287] 

To  each  pole  is  attached  a  remnant  of  some  mascu- 
line or  feminine  wearing  apparel  to  indicate  the  sex 
of  the  person  it  represents.  Age  is  indicated  by  the 
length  of  the  pole. 

A  cache  post,  or  the  surface  of  an  old  tree  near 
by,  may  be  found  marked  with  charcoal,  or  a  lead 
pencil,  if  they  should  be  fortunate  enough  to  have 
one,  bearing  such  a  diagram  as  the  following: 


This  would  mean  that  a  man  with  a  gun,  a  squaw, 
a  little  girl  and  a  dog  had  left  the  bank  of  the  river, 
when  the  moon  was  half  full;  that  their  first  day's 
travel  will  terminate  on  the  bank  of  a  creek,  where 
they  will  camp  on  the  near  shore;  that  their  next 
day's  travel  will  terminate  on  the  bank  of  another 
creek  where  they  will  camp  on  the  opposite  shore; 
and  that  at  noon  of  the  next  day,  they  will  make 
their  final  camp  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain. 

These  leaning  sticks  are  generally  left  at  every 
camping  place  along  their  trail,  for  the  edification 
of  other  Indians.  This  explains  what  puzzles  many 
white  men,  and  that  is :  how  the  Indians  are  so  well- 
informed  about  the  movements  of  parties  of  white 
men  as  well  as  of  Indians.  If  an  Indian  were  in 
your  camp,  and  knew  of  your  number,  it  is  proba- 


288        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alasha 

ble,  if  afterwards  you  secreted  yourself  near  your 
old  camp,  that  you  would  find  the  Indians  placing 
some  mysterious  stick  in  the  ground  near  the  camp 
or  your  trail. 

The  Indian  maiden,  when  approaching  maturity, 
is  ostracised  as  an  unclean  thing.  She  is  then  com- 
pelled to  wander  alone,  and  obtain  her  own  living 
in  the  best  possible  way.  Edibles  are  occasionally 
left  where  she  can  find  them,  but  nothing  is  given 
directly  to  her.  She  is  not  allowed  to  accept  any- 
thing from  the  hands  of  another,  and  must  cook 
everything  she  eats.  This  brutal  custom  of  driving 
the  poor  girls  out  in  inclement  weather  is  shocking. 

One  of  the  old  customs  of  these  Indians,  when 
approaching  another's  camp,  was  to  fire  as  many 
shots  as  there  were  numbers  in  their  party.  In 
those  days,  when  they  had  muzzle-loading  rifles,  it 
indicated  that  their  guns  were  unloaded  and  they 
were  peaceable.  Owing  to  the  white  man's  disre- 
gard for  those  signals,  and  his  refusal  to  answer 
them,  the  custom  is  now  about  obsolete. 

The  moccasin  of  the  Tananas  has  a  square  heel- 
tip  that  leaves  its  impression  in  the  track;  the  Cop- 
per River  Indian  moccasins  have  two,  and  the 
moccasin  of  the  Shusitnas  has  none.  By  the  tracks 
of  the  Indians,  they  can  tell  to  what  tribe  they  be- 
long. The  interior  Indians  plainly  articulate  their 
words,  and  their  language  is  easily  learned,  as  they 
name  animals  and  birds  by  the  noises  that  they  make. 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alasha        289 

They  name  sheep  "tobah";  goat,  "tobay";  wild 
geese,  "  honk,  honk,"  and  the  little  red  squirrel 
"  klinket." 

They  show  respect  for  the  dead  by  fencing  in 
their  graves  and  placing  crudely  constructed  crosses 
over  them.  Articles  that  were  once  the  property  of 
the  deceased,  and  little  playthings  of  the  children, 
are  placed  on  the  graves  as  tokens  of  respect  and 
lingering  affection.  The  old  squaws  occasionally 
wail  for  the  dead,  just  as  the  Digger  squaws  used 
regularly  to  do  in  southern  climes,  where  I  heard 
them  when  a  boy.  Their  wailing  was  a  regular  oc- 
currence between  sundown  and  dark,  and  created  a 
lonely  feeling  in  me  that  reasserted  itself  when  the 
occasional  moan  was  heard  away  up  there  on  Cop- 
per River. 

One  evening  I  had  seated  myself  on  the  grass- 
covered  ground,  near  a  large  boulder,  on  the  bank 
of  that  river  to  enjoy  an  after-supper  smoke.  The 
river  boiled,  curled  and  murmured,  only  about  twenty 
feet  below.  The  last  rays  of  the  summer's  sun 
were  kissing  the  tips  of  the  mountains  a  lingering 
good-night.  Soon,  from  far  away  down  the  river, 
was  heard  that  lonesome  wail,  which  has  probably 
gone  up  from  that  river-bottom  for  a  thousand 
years,  but  here,  as  in  other  places,  it  is  nearing  its 
last  echo.  To  me  It  came  with  a  poignant  sugges- 
tion of  my  vanished  boyhood. 

Suddenly  a  grunt  from  an  Indian  was  heard,  onl^ 


290        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

a  few  feet  away,  and  looking  round,  I  discovered 
one  of  the  most  intelligent  of  his  race.  I  invited 
him  to  sit  down,  whereupon  I  handed  him  an  extra 
clay  pipe,  a  package  of  tobacco  and  a  bunch  of  sul- 
phur matches.  Sulphur  matches  are  the  only  kind 
the  hunter  will  carry,  for  the  wet  ones  can  be  dried 
readily  by  giving  them  a  few  strokes  through  the 
hair,  and  can  then  be  lighted.  That  is  why  they  are 
so  popular  in  the  west. 

When  he  had  filled  the  pipe,  he  offered  to  return 
the  tobacco  and  matches,  but  the  offer  was  refused. 
That  wail  had  put  us  upon  the  natural  level  of  com- 
radeship, and  the  tobacco  was  accomplishing  its 
share.  I  desired  that  he  should  talk  and  impart  in- 
formation about  himself  and  his  people.  One  must 
give  an  Indian  time  to  commence  to  do  that,  even 
under  favorable  conditions,  and  it  was  hoped  that 
the  gift  of  tobacco  would  be  conducive  to  that  end. 

The  old  Indian  had  smoked  but  a  few  puffs, 
when  he  laughingly  compared  the  smoke  of  his  pipe 
to  that  of  the  Unaletta  volcano  which  was  in  plain 
view.  He  asked  about  the  Indians  away  off  in  the 
white  man's  country,  and  appeared  to  be  surprised 
when  he  was  told  that  the  Indians  and  whites  lived 
in  the  same  vicinity.  He  said  he  thought  the  In- 
dians were  all  dying  off  to  make  room  for  the  white 
man.  He  informed  me  that  once  there  were  1500 
Indians  between  Tonsina  River  and  Copper  Center, 
a  distance  of  about  twenty  miles,  but  that  now  there 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        291 

were  less  than  one  hundred.  Formerly  they  could 
kill  a  moose  whenever  they  wanted  it,  while  now 
there  were  very  few  of  them  to  be  found. 

He  was  a  fatalist,  and  believed  it  was  the  destined 
plan  of  the  Great  Power  that  the  Indians  should 
give  way  for  the  whites.  He  said  he  could  "  feel 
it."  To  explain  his  position  as  a  fatalist,  he  assured 
me  that  if  we  could  have  looked  ahead  correctly  a 
year  before,  we  should  have  seen  ourselves  sitting 
by  that  rock  at  this  time.  He  said  if  we  could  look 
ahead,  we  could  tell  when  earthquakes  would  occur; 
that  if  we  could  look  into  the  future  we  could  see 
the  little  babe  grow  up,  follow  its  wanderings  until 
its  death,  and  then,  if  we  watched  the  child's  life, 
that  it  would  be  just  as  we  had  seen  it — it  would  die 
just  the  same  way,  and  no  human  power  could 
change  it.  The  individual  might  think  he  could  do 
as  he  pleased,  but  he  was  only  doing  what  was  pre- 
destined for  him  to  do,  and  he  could  not  help  it. 

That  untutored  savage  could  have  entertained 
our  civilized  philosophers,  but  he  would  certainly 
have  collided  with  some  of  the  modern  free-moral- 
agent  theories. 

He  described  how  his  people  once  had  made  axes 
out  of  stone,  then  later  out  of  native  copper.  He 
said  that  they  could  harden  copper  fairly  well  with 
an  application  of  urinal  ammonia,  but  the  process 
was  tedious,  and  moreover  the  ax  was  not  as  serv- 
iceable as  the  white  man's  steel. 


292        Trailing   and    Campins^   in   Alaska 

He  explained  that  the  Indians  were  compelled  to 
hunt  for  a  living  and  had  not  the  time  to  improve 
themselves  like  the  white  people,  but  he  wished  they 
could  read  and  write.  He  said  that  the  children 
would  learn  to  do  so,  if  the  Great  Power  so  destined 
it.  All  Indians  believe  in  an  occult  power.  He 
thought  that  his  people  once  had  occupied  the  whole 
land,  but  the  fish-eating  Siwashes  had  come  and 
driven  them  back  from  the  coast.  He  could  under- 
stand the  language  of  the  Tananas,  Shusitnas  and 
the  Yukons,  as  their  languages  were  similar  to  his 
own.  It  is  reported  by  explorers  in  the  Hudson  Bay 
country  that  the  Indians  up  there  talk  the  same  lan- 
guage, or  nearly  so,  and  it  is  possible  that  this  old 
fellow's  conclusions  were  correct.  He  had  traveled 
some,  and  said  he  had  been  over  twice  to  the  Yukon 
country,  and  had  seen  the  Japanese  there. 

"Jap,  may-be-so  he  my  cousin!  "  he  added. 

He  told  me  of  his  tribe's  superstitions  and 
laughed  at  their  foolishness,  the  same  as  the  white 
men  laugh  at  lucky  horseshoes,  and  four-leaved 
clover.  He  explained  how  the  squaws  made  charms 
with  beads  and  ptarmigan  wing-bones,  to  wear  when 
going  on  a  dangerous  canoe  voyage.  These  they 
call  "  ha-lo  calepie,"  which,  when  literally  trans- 
lated, means  "  no  upset."  The  Indian  sweat-baths 
he  informed  me  were  a  sure  cure  for  rheumatism. 

He  said  the  ptarmigan  sometimes  Increase  to  such 


Trailing   and    Camping   in    Alaska        293 

numbers  that  the  country  was  unable  to  support 
them,  and  that  at  such  times  they  would  fly  away  to 
other  localities.  This  statement  Is  supported  by  the 
fact  that  those  birds  once  flew  across  the  Yukon 
.River  in  such  great  numbers  that  a  steamboat's  pas- 
sengers were  enabled  to  kill  them  with  clubs.  He 
said  that  rabbits  also  increased  too  rapidly  for  their 
sustenance,  and  that  then  they  would  die  off.  He 
denied  that  they  died  at  definite  periods,  and  ridi- 
culed the  saying  that  rabbits  die  off  every  seven 
years  as  a  silly  tradition  of  the  squaws. 

I  asked  him  why  it  was  that  so  many  of  the  In- 
dians of  the  Pacific  coast  buried  their  dead  facing 
the  setting  sun,  as  I  had  noticed  that  custom  along 
the  coast  as  far  south  as  Mexico. 

"  Me  no  sabe,"  he  answered.  *'  May-be-so  one 
time  all  Indians'  home  that  way,  and  when  Indians 
die  they  look  back  to  old  home." 

There,  that  was  a  statement  worth  something. 
Then  the  old  Indian  rested  his  head  on  his  hands, 
as  if  In  deep  reminiscent  thought.  If  he  were  now 
living  a  reincarnated  life  of  his  ancestors,  what  a 
history  he  could  tell  of  battles,  hardships  and  death 
which  had  accompanied  their  Immigration  into  that 
country!  When  he  resumed,  It  was  not  of  the  past, 
but  of  the  future.  He  arose  and  stood  In  a  com- 
manding attitude,  and  motioning  his  hand  from 
west  to  east,  exclaimed: 


294       Trailing   and   Camping   in    Alaska 


"  Indians  cornel  " 

Motioning  from  east  to  west  he  continued: 

"  White  man  come!  " 

Then  in  apparent  exultation  and  great  joy  he 
waved  both  hands  in  the  air  and  exclaimed: 

*'  Bye-and-bye,  all  Indians  come  back — all  come 
back!     White  man  die." 

I  never  shall  forget  the  apparently  Inspired  ex- 
pression of  his  countenance  when  he  made  that 
prophecy.  There  is  really  no  yellow  race,  but  the 
red  race  in  Japan,  China,  Korea  and  Siberia  num- 
bers nearly  500,000,000,  and  there  is  no  race  sui- 
cide there.  The  reward  of  conquest  over  a  weak, 
wealthy,  but  intelligent  nation,  which  may  be  the 
final  destiny  of  this,  would  be  so  great,  with  the 
accumulated  wealth  in  the  hands  of  a  few,  that  re- 
sistance to  temptation  may  be  discontinued,  and 
instead  of  China  being  dismembered  for  spoils,  his- 
tory may  repeat  itself,  and  in  the  words  of  this  old 
Indian  : 

"Bye-and-bye,  all  Indians  come  back!" 

Such  were  my  thoughts  as  the  old  Indian  sat 
smoking  his  pipe.  When  he  saw  that  I  had  recov- 
ered from  the  reverie,  he  announced  that  he  was 
not  superstitious,  and  for  an  Indian  he  was  an  ex- 
ception, yet  even  he  related  how  the  spirits  went 
with  the  winds  and  made  nocturnal  visits  to  their  old 
hunting-grounds. 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       295 

Then  the  lone  wail  was  heard  again  from  away 
down  the  river,  and  that  interesting  child  of  the 
forest  said  "  Chinan,"  (thanks)  for  the  pipe  and 
tobacco,  bade  good-bye  and  silently  made  moccasin 
tracks  down  the  trail. 


CHAPTER    XXIV 

When  on  the  trails  as  brothers  they  have  fought  the  rapids' 

zi'rath; 
They've  heard  the  wails  of  others  as  they  fell  beside  the  path; 
They've  danced  with  death  a-swinging,  as  they  climbed  the 

mountains  high; 
Where  north  zvinds  were  a-singing  they'll  as  brothers  live 

and  die. 

I  SPENT  the  summer  of  1904  on  the  head-waters 
of  the  Xanana  River,  and  it  was  an  outing  in  the 
fullest  sense  of  the  term.  Except  my  companion,  I 
saw  no  human  being  for  three  months.  I  hung  up 
my  broad-rimmed  white  hat,  when  on  Jack  Creek, 
and  dug  from  my  clothesbag  a  black,  narrow-rimmed 
misnomer.  I  did  that  because  four  years  before, 
while  wearing  a  similar  broad-rimmed  hat  in  this 
vicinity,  I  had  been  chased  and  nearly  caught  by  an 
enraged  grizzly,  and  if  we  should  meet  again  there 
was  danger  of  being  recognized  by  him,  if  seen 
wearing  the  same  kind  of  headgear. 

I  was  fortunate  in  having  an  interesting  conversa- 
tionalist for  a  companion.  That  is  a  happy  faculty, 
whether  natural  or  cultivated.  I  have  known  per- 
sons who  had  so  diligently  cultivated  that  trait  that 
they  could  distinctly  say  the  words  "  yes  "  and  "  no," 

996 


Trailing   and   Camping  in  Alaska       297 

and  I  always  enjoyed  looking  at  their  backs  as  they 
departed. 

My  companion  was  a  very  agreeable  fellow  as 
well  as  an  humorous  one.  He  wore  a  red  bandanna 
handkerchief  around  his  neck,  red  whiskers  on  his 
chin,  red  freckles  on  his  nose  and  red  hair  on  his 
head.  He  said  he  was  naturally  a  born  leader  of 
men,  when  they  were  on  a  retreat.  He  claimed  that 
self  preservation  was  one  of  the  cardinal  traits  of 
his  character.  I  was  perfectly  satisfied  to  risk  my- 
self with  him  in  the  wilds,  and  that  is  where  one 
should  have  a  man  on  whom  one  can  depend. 

I  ascended  a  mountain  to  locate  the  noonday  rest- 
ing-place of  some  mountain  sheep,  and  a  few  were 
seen,  but  too  far  away  to  secure  any  that  late  in  the 
day.  On  the  way  back,  in  a  wide  canyon,  I  met 
three  full-grown  grizzlies,  and  bravely  placed  my- 
self in  seclusion  while  they  passed  to  my  windward. 
Of  course  I  was  not  the  least  bit  embarrassed,  but 
while  counting  my  five  rounds  of  ammunition,  I 
counted  three  cartridges  and  five  bears.  It  would 
be  cruel  to  separate  the  bears  by  killing  only  a  few 
of  them;  besides,  there  might  be  bears  right  in  camp 
at  that  moment  destroying  things.  I  resolved  to  go 
right  there  and  defend  that  camp  with  my  life.  If 
necessary.  It  is  some  consolation  to  me,  even  at 
this  day,  to  know  those  bears  never  saw  me. 

My  companion,  Mr.  Howard,  about  1 1  P.  M., 
came  walking  up  the  creek  bottom  looking  for  me, 


298        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alasha 

and  among  the  willows  we  nearly  ran  against  each 
other.  The  next  day,  he,  armed  with  a  30-30  rifle 
and  I  with  a  pistol,  returned  up  the  mountain  and 
succeeded  in  placing  ourselves  in  front  of  some  moun- 
tain goats.  While  in  a  deep  gorge,  an  old  Billy 
with  his  whiskers  *'  gave  a  sly  glance  at  me,"  from 
the  side  of  a  precipice.  In  endeavoring  to  draw  a 
white  bead  on  a  white  goat,  with  a  white  cloudy  sky- 
line for  a  background,  he  was  missed  at  no  greater 
distance  than  sixty  yards.  At  that  time,  my  partner 
was  busily  engaged  in  holding  a  dog  (not  Pete), 
which  was  possessed  with  a  delusion  that  he  could 
chase  all  mountain  goats  out  of  Alaska.  We  suc- 
ceeded in  killing  two,  which  was  all  the  meat  we 
wanted  at  that  time.  It  was  a  sight  to  see  one  of 
those  I  shot,  after  he  had  climbed  to  a  great  height, 
then  to  come  tumbling  down.  It  is  little  trouble  to 
get  within  range  of  mountain  sheep  and  goat  if  one 
be  skilled  in  hunting  them.  It  is  the  novice,  killing 
for  sport,  who  climbs,  sweats,  and  worries  and  de- 
clares that  they  are  always  inaccessible.  What  fun 
the  sheep  do  have  with  those  fellows ! 

About  a  month  later,  when  riding  along  a  sheep 
trail  on  a  steep  mountain-side,  I  rounded  a  sharp 
point  and  met  a  large  female  grizzly.  She  stood 
up  on  her  hind  feet  and  appeared  interested,  while 
that  horse  proceeded  to  exhibit  his  athletic  abilities 
for  her  amusement  and  my  discomfort.  I  tightly 
held  the  horse  while  he  turned  round  and  round,  on 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        299 


that  high,  narrow  trail.  He  did  this  about  one 
hundred  times,  which  enabled  me  to  count  as  many- 
bears.  Of  course  this  is  a  rough  estimate,  but  one 
should  be  conservative  when  telling  of  bears.  Be- 
fore there  was  time  to  pass  the  hat,  the  audience 
left,  the  horse  ceased  performing,  and  his  rider 
began  to  dimly  realize  that  he  had  been  turned 
around  so  many  times  it  was  with  difficulty  he  could 
determine  the  direction  to  camp.  He  felt  satisfied, 
however,  that  he  owned  the  greatest  trick  horse  that 
had  ever  performed  before  an  Alaskan  audience. 

Others,  that  summer,  did  not  have  such  agreeable 
experiences  with  bears.  Some  prospectors  on  the 
Tanana  found  the  dead  body  of  a  man  near  the  foot 
of  a  tree,  and  in  his  hand  was  the  following  note: 

"  To  folks  at  home.  I  have  met  my  fate.  Good- 
bye and  may  God  care  for  and  bless  you  all.  Was 
hunting  and  wounded  bear.  It  has  killed  me.  Good- 
bye, 

"Alonzo  Cheswith." 

At  one  time  we  were  camped  on  the  trail  that  leads 
from  Mentasta  to  Bachulneta  by  way  of  Suslota, 
when  a  coyote  appeared  near  by,  then  another,  and 
they  all  carried  packs.  That  was  sufficient  reason 
for  suggesting  the  advisability  of  placing  the  coffee- 
pot on  the  fire  to  assist  in  making  a  bluff  at  feeding 
Indians,  for  they  were  sure  to  be  there.  In  a  few 
minutes,  our  camp  was  alive  with  vermin  and  In- 


800        Trailing   and    Camping   in    ^ilasha 

dians,  while  dogs  whined  to  be  unpacked,  squaws 
begged  for  food,  and  men  for  tobacco.  After  two 
hours'  rest,  they  left  as  they  had  come,  in  a  straggling 
manner,  probably  one  hundred  yards  apart. 

The  next  night,  about  two  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, we  heard  the  call  of  a  night-bird,  apparently 
near  by;  this  was  answered  over  on  another  hill,  and 
that  Indicated  the  oft-heard  signal  of  the  Tananas. 
I  quietly  slipped  out  in  the  dark  and  listened,  and 
again  it  was  heard,  farther  away,  and  this  time  It 
was  answered  from  along  the  trail;  so  it  was  plainly 
an  Indian  call,  and  not  that  of  a  night-bird  of  the 
feathered  kind. 

Those  Indians  had  done  right  in  going  around  the 
camp  of  the  white  man,  for  a  tenderfoot  might 
have  shot  an  Indian  at  that  time  of  night,  if  he  had 
discovered  him  near  his  camp; — there  is  always  an 
uncanny  feeling  that  passes  through  one's  anatomy 
when  that  call  is  heard. 

The  next  day  we  passed  Indian  Albert  on  the 
trail,  and  after  satisfying  his  request  for  tobacco, 
we  continued  on  our  way  and  presently  heard  the 
same  bird-call  from  a  thicket,  two  hundred  yards 
to  one  side.  Before  I  had  recovered  from  the 
amusement  of  a  night-bird  calling  at  mid-day,  the 
answer  was  heard  from  Albert,  away  down  the  trail. 
The  first  was  not  Intended  for  the  white  man's  ears, 
and  In  that  case,  no  doubt,  emanated  from  Albert's 
bodyguard. 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        301 

If,  when  camping  among  those  forest  denizens, 
you  happen  to  explain  to  a  tenderfoot  companion 
that  these  calls,  or  plaintive  tremolos,  which  sound 
from  the  dark  recesses  of  night,  are  aboriginal  sig- 
nals, then  that  tenderfoot  needs  a  sedative  for  his 
nerves.  You  will  not  be  annoyed  by  his  snoring  dur- 
ing the  rest  of  that  night.  He  may  previously  have 
been  the  embodiment  of  inanition,  but  the  spell  will 
be  forever  broken  while  on  the  trail,  and  henceforth, 
when  in  the  wilds  at  night,  he  will  ever  be  on  the 
alert,  and  his  stare  into  darkness  will  indicate  nur- 
tured animation,  apparently  conserved  for  that  par- 
ticular occasion. 

A  young  Indian  approached  our  camp,  on  Chlcka- 
men  Creek,  carrying  a  twenty-pound  pack,  and  sup- 
porting besides  the  ponderous  cognomen  of  "  Bob." 
With  inimitable  gestures  he  assured  us  that  he  knew 
of  a  dry  trail  leading  to  Mentasta,  which  avoided 
the  bosky  swamp  country  of  the  Slahna  bottoms, 
with  their  innumerable  muskrat  ponds,  lakes  and 
sloughs.  In  consideration  of  his  services  as  guide, 
we  consented  to  carry  his  pack  on  a  horse,  and  also 
recklessly  attempted  to  satisfy  his  omnivorous  ap- 
petite from  our  commissariat.  His  boasted  knowl- 
edge of  the  way  proved  so  unreliable  that  the  final 
result  was  a  halt  in  the  midst  of  a  swamp.  While 
one  man  smoked  the  mosquitoes  from  the  poor 
horses,  I  looked  along  the  edge  of  the  mountain  for 
solid  footing,  and  the  Indian  searched  towards  the 


302        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

river.  When  the  Indian  returned  from  his  futile 
search,  he  answered  our  queries  with  an  impotent  ges- 
ture, spreading  his  fingers,  and  profanely  qualified 
his  statement  thus: 

*' Trail  no  good!  May-be-so  good  for  salmon, 
dat's  all!" 

We  swam  our  horses  across  an  outlet  of  a  lake, 
and  took  them  where  one  would  think  it  impossible 
to  go.  As  night  approached,  we  came  out  on  the 
green  flat  at  the  outlet  of  the  Mentasta  lake,  where 
was  the  village  of  Chief  John  and  his  tribe.  While 
preparing  camp,  we  were  surrounded  by  Indians  of 
all  sizes  and  descriptions,  and,  as  usual,  they  begged 
for  "  tobac."  The  old  chief  "  pot-latched  "  us  five 
white  fish,  fresh  from  the  lake.  That  senile  chief, 
who  was  broad-shouldered,  slim-legged  and  dressed 
In  buckskin,  extended  this  courtesy — not  with  be- 
nevolence as  an  Incentive,  but  to  obligate  us  to  return 
the  favor  as  many  times  as  our  patience  would  per- 
mit. 

My  companion  was  droll  as  well  as  congenial. 
He  remarked  that  he  believed  he  could  walk  across 
a  creek  on  a  log,  but  while  attempting  It  he  fell  Into 
the  water  up  to  his  neck,  whereupon  he  added: 
"  I've  changed  my  mind!  " 

He  possessed  the  happy  trait  of  never  becoming 
bewildered.  It  is  very  trying  to  travel  in  a  wild 
country  with  a  companion  who  Is  constantly  getting 
lost.    The  majority  of  those  who  lose  their  lives  do 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alasl-a       303 

so  by  first  losing  their  desired  direction.  A  member 
of  a  party  with  which  I  was  traveling  once  in  the 
Copper  River  country  had  no  sense  of  direction,  be- 
cause he  was  born  that  way — it  is  a  natural  failing — 
and  was  lost  almost  constantly.  He  would  feel  lost, 
probably,  if  enclosed  in  a  corral.  There  was  but  one 
smoking  mountain  to  be  seen,  but  he  found  dozens 
of  them.  Whenever  he  saw  that  mountain  from  a 
new  position,  immediately  he  recorded  the  discov- 
ery of  another  volcano.  We  humored  this  fellow, 
who  was  otherwise  intellectually  bright,  by  asking 
for  a  description  of  the  last  volcano,  hoping  he  would 
discover  that  there  was  merely  one,  but  it  made  no 
difference  to  him,  for  he  continued  to  discover  more 
smoking  mountains  with  the  evident  purpose  of 
breaking  the  record  in  that  particular  line. 

We  rested  one  day  on  Indian  Creek,  and  during 
the  afternoon  I  took  a  walk  down  on  the  bottom,  in 
search  of  a  mess  of  spruce  hens,  thinking  they  might 
be  found  among  the  heavy  timber.  Instead  of  tak- 
ing a  pistol  that  was  large  enough  to  kill  anything 
I  might  happen  to  see,  a  small  automatic  32  was 
picked  up.  I  had  gone  but  a  quarter  of  a  mile  when 
I  got  a  glimpse  of  a  brownish-looking  animal  and 
decided  that  it  was  a  yearling  moose. 

A  yearling  moose  was  about  our  desired  size, 
so,  instead  of  returning  for  a  larger  pistol,  I  decided 
to  crawl  through  the  brushy  undergrowth,  as  near 
as  possible  to  the  place  where  the  animal  stood,  and 


304        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

then  slip  a  few  bullets  into  the  heart  cavity  and  get 
my  moose  by  tracking  him  a  short  distance. 

The  moss-covered  ground  enabled  me  to  arrive 
at  the  place  unobserved,  but  when  there,  as  I  arose 
and  looked  around,  not  a  thing  could  I  see.  Be- 
cause the  wind  had  been  in  my  favor  I  was  satisfied 
that  the  animal  had  not  been  frightened,  but  where 
it  had  vanished  was  a  mystery.  I  stood  beside  a 
large  tree,  so  as  to  be  less  likely  to  be  observed,  and 
was  quietly  waiting  for  the  hunted  one  to  make  a 
move,  for  I  was  not  entirely  sure  that  it  was  a 
moose. 

Presendy,  a  large  brown  silvertlp  grizzly  bear 
arose  from  lying  flat  on  the  ground,  not  thirty  paces 
distant.  He  sat  up  on  his  haunches  and  scented  in 
the  direction  of  camp,  and  while  doing  so,  he  quietly 
held  the  butt  of  his  ear  for  me.  At  that  moment, 
the  idiotic  strain  which  runs  through  my  composi- 
tion asserted  itself,  and  I  could  not  resist  the  temp- 
tation to  satisfy  my  curiosity  in  regard  to  what 
effect  that  little  hard  bullet  would  have  upon  him. 

The  missile  was  properly  despatched  to  the  exact 
spot,  at  the  butt  of  his  ear!  Then,  shaking  his  head 
and  emitting  a  savage  growl  he  rushed  towards  me, 
on  his  back  track,  like  a  whirlwind.  I  dropped  to 
the  ground  like  a  dead  'possum — and  dared  not 
move,  for  any  attempt  to  climb  the  tree  would  have 
been  disastrous.  At  the  rate  I  was  shrinking  up, 
I  could  have  disappeared  Into  a  squirrel  hole  in  a 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alasha        305 


few  minutes,  but  it  was  only  a  few  seconds  before 
he  had  passed  within  a  few  feet  of  me,  and  the  way 
the  brush  popped,  one  would  have  thought  it  a  six- 
horse  team  running  away  with  a  wagon-load  of 
loose  poles.  If  an  inexperienced  tenderfoot  had 
committed  that  foolish  act,  he  might,  after  proper 
treatment,  have  been  pronounced  harmlessly  sane; 
but  as  for  myself,  I  returned  to  camp  with  a  pro- 
found feeling  that  my  case  was  hopeless. 

On  our  return,  we  saw  matured  oats  and  barley  at 
the  United  States  Experimental  farm  at  Copper 
Center,  and  also  a  vegetable  garden  at  Tonslna 
River. 

There  are  thousands  of  acres  along  the  river  bot- 
toms of  the  valleys  of  central  Alaska  which  will 
some  day  repay  the  tiller  of  the  soil.  These  are 
the  warm  sedimentary  soils.  There  are  also  thou- 
sands of  acres  of  rolling  foot-hill  land  where  grow 
luxuriant  bunch-grasses,  on  which  live  stock  could 
fatten  during  the  summer  months.  The  interior 
is  cold,  but  the  absence  of  wind  makes  it  more  de- 
sirable for  stock-raising  than  many  of  the  northern 
States.  The  length  of  the  winters  is  the  greatest 
obstacle.  Horses  have  wintered  there,  but  they  re- 
quire to  be  in  good  flesh  when  turned  out,  in  order  to 
keep  them  warm,  but  they  come  out  In  the  spring  in 
very  good  condition.  The  annual  snowfall  is  light 
in  the  Interior,  only  amounting  to  about  two  feet, 
and  often  less.     It  is  necessary  to  place  the  ground 


306       Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

in  good  condition  before  sowing  cereals,  and  the 
Siberian  seed  is  preferable. 

Relatively  speaking,  of  the  country  as  a  whole, 
there  is  a  very  small  area  that  could  be  made  pro- 
ductive, because  hundreds  of  square  miles  are  cov- 
ered by  swamps,  lakes  and  sloughs.  There  are  also 
hundreds  of  square  miles  of  cold  clay  land  which 
are  covered  with  moss  and  scrubby  spruce,  on  which 
it  would  be  difficult  to  raise  even  a  disturbance.  The 
valleys  are  so  extensive  that  productive  localities 
may  at  some  future  time  supply  the  home  market 
with  meat  and  vegetables,  a  time  predicted  to  be  in- 
evitable. Grain  hay  can  be  grown,  and  it  can  be 
cured  in  the  interior,  but  it  would  be  impossible  to 
cure  it  on  the  coast  because  of  the  moisture.  Red- 
top  grass  grows  to  prodigious  height  on  the  coast, 
while  in  the  interior  the  grass  is  short,  although 
more  nutritious.  The  summer  seasons  along  the 
coast  are  much  longer,  and  better  vegetables,  espe- 
cially potatoes,  can  be  grown  there. 

The  descent  of  the  Coast  Range  was  accom- 
plished in  a  cold  rain,  this  being  the  usual  thing  in 
September.  While  plodding  along  in  the  rain  and 
mud,  I  wished  sincerely  that  some  kind  friend  would 
rope  me  and  take  me  to  a  place  where  prospecting 
was  prohibited  by  law.  After  a  good  square  meal 
at  the  Camp  Comfort  roadhouse,  however,  and 
while  enjoying  the  warmth  of  a  good  fire,  I  found 
myself  endeavoring  to  determine  into  what  locality 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   'Alaska        307 

I  should  venture  the  next  year.  The  hosts  at  Camp 
Comfort  always  succeed  in  making  the  place  con- 
form to  the  significance  of  its  name,  and  through 
their  hospitality  the  prospectors  associate  good  old 
Camp  Comfort  with  the  most  pleasant  memories 
of  that  trail. 

The  habit  of  prospecting,  when  once  diamond- 
hitched  upon  a  man,  becomes  a  mental  disorder. 
Only  one  in  fifty  finds  pay  for  his  hardships,  but 
he  has  the  consolation  of  striving  for  the  cleanest 
money  at  large,  and  he  knows  when  he  gets  it  that 
he  has  not  robbed  another,  legally  or  otherwise. 

The  illiterate  man  is  usually  the  best  assistant  on 
the  trail;  as  his  mind  is  not  filled  with  tangents  or 
co-tangents,  wise  sayings  of  Shakespeare  or  the  great 
statesmen.  In  consequence,  he  remembers  what  he 
did  with  a  rope,  just  where  he  laid  the  ax,  how  many 
knives  and  forks  the  crowd  started  with,  the  brands 
on  the  horses,  and  when  he  last  heard  the  bell. 
This  all  sounds  ridiculous,  but  if  I  were  choosing 
a  good  campman,  I  should  prefer  that  his  education 
were  limited,  so  that  he  could  remember  the  little 
things  and  not  be  concerned  about  his  grammatical 
expressions. 

There  are  diamond  hitches,  forward  and  back- 
ward— big  diamond,  little  diamond — square  knots 
and  granny  knots,  walnuts  and  loops,  and  there  are 
hobbles  and  side-hobbles,  blinds  and  cinches,  pan- 
niers,   pack-saddles    and    aparejos.     No;    with    too 


308        Trailing   and    Camping;   in   Alaska 

much  of  other  kinds  of  knowledge  he  cannot  attend 
to  all  that  properly;  he  becomes  lost — forgets  how 
to  do  things,  and  cannot  recall  where  he  has  put  a 
very  insignificant  but  now  all-important  buckskin 
string.  A  deep-thinking,  wool-gathering  philosopher 
would  be  a  decided  failure  as  an  assistant  on  the 
trail. 

My  companion  was  a  contrast  to  the  above,  but 
he  had  had  a  lifetime  of  experience.  His  well- 
flavored  camp  stories  were  just  about  as  long  as  a 
cigarette,  and  he  was  one  of  tiic  best  automatic  and 
continuous  entertainers  I  have  ever  met.  He  made 
a  few  locations,  and  afterwards  he  remarked  that 
It  was  astonishing  how  good  they  looked  to  him  after 
drinking  a  bottle  of  champagne;  at  such  times  and 
under  such  conditions  he  always  raised  their  valua- 
tion. 

An  incident  happened  on  this  coast  that  summer, 
which  is  worthy  of  mention.  A  Mr.  tloward  was 
suffering  with  a  hand  that  had  been  mangled  by  a 
charge  from  a  shotgun.  In  his  remote  camp,  Mr. 
Glendenning,  an  experienced  Alaskan  who  had 
toured  the  coast  alone  in  a  row-boat,  amputated  the 
man's  arm  with  a  razor  and  an  old  meat-saw,  and 
the  crude  operation,  without  anaesthetics,  was  a  de- 
cided success. 

While  the  whistling  north  winds  played  through 
the  trees  and  told  me  of  cold  on  the  glacier,  I  sat 
by  a  warm  fire  and  thought  of  the  insufferable  heat 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        309 

of  the  deserts,  plains  and  canyons  of  lower  latitudes, 
and  also  remembered  the  damp  and  clammy  fogs 
of  the  southern  coasts,  that  chill  the  bones  of  the  old, 
dampen  the  ardor  of  the  young,  and  invigorate  the 
moss  on  the  houseroofs;  wherefore  I  realized  that 
all  climates  are  imperfect. 

Once  more,  I  was  back  on  the  coast  with  another 
batch  of  doleful  reminders  of  the  trail — the  sound 
of  owl-hoots,  the  flickering  of  dying  campfires,  the 
mire  of  the  swamplands,  and  the  rain,  mudholes 
and  misery.  It  would  be  consistent  if  I  were  to 
change  my  name  to  that  of  "  Misery "  and  come 
up  there  to  live,  devoting  my  days  to  the  life  of  i 
prospector. 

The  vernacular  of  the  prospectors  awakened  me 
to  my  surroundings,  for  my  ears  rang  with  such 
apellatives  as  "Oklahoma  Bill,"  "  Alganik  Bill," 
"  Staghound  Bill,"  although  my  appetite  suggested 
duck-bills,  and  my  pocket-book  the  many  bills  I  had 
to  pay.  Then  I  lapsed  back  into  dreams  of  such 
ungainly  things  as  pack-saddles,  sling  ropes,  diamond 
hitches,  mantas  and  ponchos,  while  it  rained  and 
poured. 


CHAPTER    XXV 

From  the  days  of  the  mastodon  the  wolverine  has  defied 
his  enemies,  and  his  animal  contemporaries  have  respected 
his  proiL'ess. 

The  summer  of  1905  was  spent  among  the  high 
peaks,  the  roaring  waterfalls,  and  the  extensive  gla- 
ciers that  border  Prince  William  Sound.  My  com- 
panion and  I  found  ourselves  once  between  the 
prongs  of  a  canyon  and  looking  dizzily  over  the 
edges  we  could  see  narrow,  wild  torrents,  hundreds 
of  feet  below.  The  October  night  had  settled  upon 
us.  The  rain  had  poured  down  all  day,  and  in  addi- 
tion to  being  drenched  to  the  skin  we  were  cold, 
tired  and  hungry;  moreover,  we  had  to  face  the  fact 
that  it  was  necessary  to  return  to  the  head  of  the 
canyon  and  then  cross  a  high  mountain  before  we 
could  reach  our  camp. 

We  became  separated  in  the  darkness,  but  we 
bumped  and  felt  our  way  up  the  mountain;  then 
slipped,  slid  and  rolled  down  through  the  brush  and 
timbers  on  the  other  side.  I  stopped,  entangled 
among  the  dead  limbs  of  a  fallen  tree-top,  and  there 
built  a  fire  and  shiveringly  steamed  one  side,  while 
the  other  was  being  rained  on.  The  wind  blew 
down  the  mountain  and  penetrated  my  wet  cloth- 

310 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       311 

ing,  so  that  I  really  longed  for  a  "  tenderfoot  "  for 
company,  that  he  might  amuse  me  with  his  wail- 
ing complaints.  The  day  dawned  with  more  rain 
and  wet  brush,  and  I  wondered  if  my  companion 
had  met  with  more  favorable  experiences. 

About  ten  o'clock.  I  approached  our  camp  to  dis- 
cover my  companion  coming  to  meet  me.  He  had 
traveled  all  night.  About  midnight  he  had  rolled 
down  an  embankment,  caught  at  alders,  and  finally 
letting  loose  of  them,  had  continued  rolling,  until 
at  last  he  had  stopped  at  a  soft  mossy  place.  He 
had  lost  his  hat,  and  every  loose  article  about  his 
person,  except  a  wild  duck,  and  as  he  had  not  eaten 
anything  for  twenty-four  hours,  he  immediately  de- 
voured that  duck  raw,  wondering,  as  he  sat  In  the 
cold  drenching  rain,  whether  I  were  enjoying  as  good 
a  supper. 

When  afterwards  we  looked  at  the  draw,  through 
which  he  had  fallen,  we  saw  that  if  he  had  de- 
scended at  a  point  fifty  yards  on  either  side,  he 
must  have  fallen  to  the  bottom  of  a  three-hundred- 
foot  precipice,  and,  as  he  expressed  it,  "  no  doubt 
the  duck  would  have  been  more  or  less  damaged." 

,We  enjoyed  a  few  sunshiny  days  of  the  kind  that 
cause  one's  thoughts  to  wander  around  and  become 
lost  in  heaven,  because  of  the  kindness  of  the  ele- 
ments. It  was  on  such  a  day — the  kind  to  make 
one  forget  one's  debts,  that  I  lay  down  in  the  tall 
grass  and  counted  fifteen  waterfalls  that  were  de- 


312        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

scending  from  a  glacier  on  a  shelf,  about  looo  feet 
above. 

While  enjoying  that  scene,  my  attention  was  at- 
tracted by  a  large  grizzly  that  arose  from  his  bed 
in  the  grass  and  turned  broadside,  not  more  than 
one  hundred  yards  away.  Immediately  I  sent  a 
pistol  ball  through  his  heart  cavity,  whereupon  he 
emitted  a  savage  growl,  galloped  a  short  distance 
and  lay  down  for  his  last  long  sleep.  Then  another 
arose,  much  nearer,  and  stood  on  his  hind  feet,  look- 
ing around  for  the  cause  of  the  report.  My  part- 
ner came  over  the  ridge  just  at  that  moment  and 
we  both  opened  fire  on  that  second  one,  and  it  was 
while  tracking  his  blood-stained  footprints  that  we 
discovered  some  copper  ore.  This  we  located,  nam- 
ing It  the  Wounded  Bear  mining  claim.  The  bear 
descended  to  a  glacier  where  the  track  was  lost,  and 
it  is  probable  that  he  died  among  the  crevasses. 

When  I  was  traveling  on  a  glacier,  about  a  week 
after  that  incident,  I  saw  a  wolverine  approaching 
at  a  gallop.  x'\s  he  stopped  and  turned  to  examine 
something,  I  sent  a  bullet  that  mangled  his  heart 
and  caused  him  to  jump  up  and  fall  over.  When 
I  approached  him  he  was  gasping  his  last.  That 
accidental  pistol-shot  was  one  of  those  that  are  liable 
to  inspire  one  with  too  much  confidence  in  one's 
shooting  ability,  as  the  distance  was  154  steps. 

That  wolverine  weighed  about  fifty  pounds.  He 
measured  four  feet  from  the  end  of  his  nose  to  the 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       313 

tip  of  a  twelve-inch  tail;  his  neck  was  sixteen  inches 
in  circumference;  his  leg  was  only  ten  inches  long, 
and  his  fore-arm  was  nine  inches  around.  I  should 
describe  him  as  a  big-necked,  canine-toothed,  large- 
eyed,  and  long-bodied  animal  with  two  short  legs 
on  each  end.  His  flesh  was  composed  of  hard  blue 
muscle,  and  his  head  was  protected  with  a  roll  of 
the  same  impenetrable  material.  Because  of  this 
fact  trappers  often  declare  that  they  cannot  kill 
a  wolverine  by  beating  it  on  the  head  with  a  club. 
A  knife-fight  with  two  common  American  black  bears 
would  be  preferable  to  a  like  contest  with  one  wol- 
verine. 

The  wolverine  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  of 
America's  carnivora.  He  is  not  only  American, 
and  has  attached  his  name  to  that  of  the  Michi- 
ganders,  but  he  has  mingled  his  bones  in  almost 
all  countries  with  those  of  the  mastodons  and  other 
gigantic  mammalia  which  lived  thousands  of  years 
ago,  in  the  dim  past.  His  ancestors  were  common 
before  there  was  a  London  or  a  St.  Petersburg. 
With  his  surprising  strength  and  sagacity,  he  has 
stood,  and  still  stands,  defying  all  enemies,  even 
twice  his  size,  to  mortal  combat.  A  whole  pack 
of  wolves  will  slink  away  cowardly  from  his  pres- 
ence, and  a  dog!  why,  a  dog  readily  recognizes — 
by  intuition,  as  it  were — the  mortal  enemy  of  his 
ancestors,  for  the  very  scent  of  a  wolverine's  skin 
will  cause  him  to  hie  away,  bristling,  barking  and 


314        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alasha 

growling,  into  seclusion.  "  Old  Brigham,"  a  well- 
known  dog  in  Valdez,  went  completely  back  on  me, 
fell  three  feet  off  a  sidewalk  and  ran  home,  simply 
because  he  scented  the  fact  that  I  had  skinned  a 
wolverine.  The  proper  name  for  a  wolverine  is 
the  hunter's  appellation  of  "  skunk  bear." 

My  dog  Pete  displays  good  canine  judgment  when 
hunting,  but  draws  the  line  on  prospecting.  When- 
ever I  wash  a  pan  of  dirt,  he  looks  into  the  pan, 
and  then  wonderingly  at  me.  When  I  change  to 
breaking  rock,  he  smells  the  broken  fragments,  then 
closely  fitting  his  tail  in  its  natural  trench,  he  walks 
over  to  one  side  and  sits  down,  with  the  look  that 
plainly  says: 

"My  Master  has  'em  ag'in!  " 

Fish  are  almost  too  plentiful  in  Alaska  to  write 
about.  In  the  early  springtime,  hundreds  of  tons 
of  little  candle  fish  and  herring  can  be  seen.  The 
candle  fish  is  a  little  hard  roll  of  fish  oil.  The  old- 
timers  along  Alaska's  coast  used  those  little  sardines 
for  candles,  by  sticking  the  mouth  of  the  dried  ones 
over  a  nail,  usually  driven  into  a  table  for  the  pur- 
pose, and  then  setting  fire  to  the  tail,  which  would 
burn  and  furnish  light  until  the  entire  fish  had  been 
consumed.  That  is  why  they  are  called  candle  fish. 
These  fish  run  in  February  and  March,  and  are 
found  as  far  inland  as  Mentasta  Lake.  They  can  be 
fried  in  their  own  oil,  first  starting  the  oil  by  im- 
mersing the  fish  in  hot  water. 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska        315 

Salmon  ascend  the  rivers  and  streamlets  in  such 
numbers  that  where  they  are  stalled  by  a  dam,  or  a 
waterfall,  they  are  found  by  the  ton.  They  ascend 
little  streams  along  the  coast,  where  often  they  can 
proceed  but  a  short  distance  from  tide-water,  yet 
there  they  stop,  die  and  rot.  They  have  lived  in  the 
sea  the  prescribed  four  years,  and  now  are  return- 
ing to  the  sparkling  fresh  waters  of  their  youth  to 
spawn  and  die. 

Once  we  visited  the  Orca  cannery,  when  it  was  said 
that  there  were  36,000  salmon  lying  on  the  wharf. 
We  watched  a  Chinaman  with  a  spiked  pole  sling- 
ing the  salmon  up  a  chute,  where  another  grabbed 
and  dexterously  beheaded  them  with  a  knife.  The 
remains  of  the  salmon  were  shoved  up  to  another 
Celestial,  who,  in  like  manner,  cut  off  the  tails,  and 
to  another  who  severed  the  fins.  We  watched  a 
salmon  grow  smaller,  slip  into  a  cleaning  vat  of  hot 
water,  come  out  and  go  into  a  machine  that  cut  it 
into  can-length  pieces;  then  saw  the  machine  ram 
those  pieces  into  cans  and  cup  the  lids.  After  that, 
the  cans  were  rolled  down  a  chained  run-a-way  over 
a  blaze  of  fire  and  under  a  stream  of  solder,  and 
then  into  a  basket,  which  was  lowered  into  boiling 
water  that  did  the  cooking.  Then  they  were  set 
aside,  labelled  and  boxed  for  shipping. 

There  was  one  of  our  number  who  was  addicted 
to  the  dangerous  habit  of  playing  with  statistics. 
He  was  so  much  inclined  that  way,  that  we  generally 


316        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

referred  to  him  as  "  the  computer."  That  great 
display  of  salmon  induced  him  to  produce  his  pencil, 
and  he  began  figuring.  Presently  he  accosted  us 
with  the  question: 

"  To  say  that  this  Company  has  caught  ten  mil- 
lions of  salmon  would  not  be  unreasonable,  would 
it?" 

"  Certainly  not,"  I  replied. 

"  Well,  to  say  that  they  averaged  two  feet  in 
length  would  be  just  as  reasonable,  wouldn't 
it?" 

"  Yes." 

**  Now,  if  ten  millions  of  salmon  were  trans- 
formed into  one,  it  would  mean  a  fish  twenty  mil- 
lions of  feet  in  length,  would  it  not?" 

I  committed  the  fatal  error  of  agreeing  to  this 
also,  and  he  continued: 

"  A  fish  that  measures  twenty  millions  of  feet 
would  be  a  little  over  3700  miles  long,  but  we  can 
afford  to  throw  off  a  few  feet  when  we  have  so  much 
fish  in  warm  weather.  Now,  if  that  fish  hooked  his 
gill  on  Cape  Cod,  on  the  Atlantic  coast,  he  could 
wipe  San  Francisco  off  the  Pacific  coast,  with  his  tail, 
and  he  would  measure  so  large  around  the  shoul- 
ders that  there  would  not  be  another  man  put  off 
at  Buffalo  for  some  time !  Of  course  I  hav^e  nothing 
against  San  Francisco,  besides  San  Francisco 
wouldn't  mind  it  much,  as  she  Is  used  to  such  things, 
but  It  just  shows  what  the  fish  could  do  If  old  Cape 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       317 


Cod  could  stand  the  strain;  besides,  gentlemen,  fig- 
ures won't  He !  " 

One  of  the  men  employed  there  came  to  my  res- 
cue by  remarking: 

"No,  but  liars  will  figure!" 
Alaska  has  sIxty-sIx  canneries  and  eighteen  salt- 
erles  with  an  annual  output  valued  at  $11,000,000. 
The  autumn  of  1905  settled  In  with  the  usual 
regular  rainfall,  and  prospecting  was  exchanged  for 
the  more  comfortable  accommodations  of  a  Valdez 
hotel.  Several  old  pioneers  assembled  here  to  pro- 
cure their  winter  supplies,  and  among  them  was  one 
who  deserves  especial  mention, — the  noted  German- 
sen. 

There  he  sat,  "doubled  and  folded,"  Lincoln- 
like; long,  sinuous  and  slender,  the  result  of  a  life- 
time spent  In  the  wilds.  Germansen  had  been  a 
child  of  the  wild,  a  man  of  the  wild,  and  now  In  his 
old  days  the  fascinating  phantom  still  invited  him 
with  a  beckoning  call.  His  kind,  honest  face  inspired 
one  with  confidence,  and  his  striking  personality 
proclaimed  him  to  be  one  to  "  tie  to." 

Many  pioneers  have  followed  Germansen,  for 
he  had  led  the  van  of  the  northwest  pathfinders, 
years  and  years  ago.  Look  on  the  map  of  the 
Canadian  Northwest  Territory  and  you'll  see  Ger- 
mansen's  Lake  and  Germansen's  Landing.  He  was 
the  first  to  cross  from  that  country  to  Fort  Simpson, 
away  back  In  1868.     The  life  story  of  that  hardy 


818        Trailing    and    Campina;   in    .iJasla 


pioneer  is  an  interesting  narrative,  and  in  answer 
to  my  request  for  it,  he  untied  a  few  knots  of  him- 
self, drew  his  brawny  hand  across  his  forehead,  and 
began : 

"  Well,  it  doesn't  amount  to  much,  but  it  is  his- 
tory. I  was  born  in  Waukesha  County,  Wiscon- 
sin, in  1843,  ^^  fh^  s'^^  o^  ^^  o^^  abandoned  In- 
dian village,  and  in  the  sight  of  an  Indian  tepee, 
and  I  have  been  in  sight  of  them  almost  ever 
since. 

"  I  fought  for  the  Union,  but  was  discharged  for 
injuries  received  on  Shiloh's  dark  and  bloody  ground. 
I  fought  the  Sioux  with  Generals  Sibley  and  Sully. 
I  once  swam  a  horse  across  the  Yellowstone  River 
and  then  across  the  Missouri  to  get  to  Rock  Fort 
Union.  I  was  an  Indian  trader  from  1865  to  1867, 
and  dealt  with  the  Blackfeet,  Pegans,  Bloods  and 
Crees.  I  left  St.  Cloud  for  Winnipeg,  where  I  pro- 
cured fresh  cattle  and  proceeded  with  the  first  emi- 
grant train  to  Fort  Edmonton.  There  were  500 
carts,  700  half-breeds,  and  three  white  men, — 
Boyd,  John  Beaupre  and  myself. 

"  Again  I  started  out  to  trade  with  the  Indians, 
and  employed  Hugh  Morrison,  a  man  with  a  Black- 
foot  wife,  who  had  lived  with  the  Indians  for  forty 
years.  We  came  upon  an  Indian  town  of  about 
three  thousand  souls,  and,  as  my  hair  was  red  and 
long,  they  looked  upon  me  as  a  freak,  which  I  was. 
They   swarmed   around   and   grunted   astonishment 


/(lines  Gcruianscn. 

(at  the  lime  of  his  nanalive) 


Trailing    and    Camping   in   Alaska        319 

and  awe  as  they  ran  their  fingers  through  my  scalp- 
lock. 

"  The  price  of  a  buffalo  robe  was  two  cups  of 
flour,  and  it  was  but  a  short  time  until  our  carts 
were  loaded  down.  When  I  was  ready  to  leave, 
Chief  Maxipeta  (Great  Eagle),  kindly  offered  me 
my  choice  of  his  six  wives,  and  insisted  that  I 
should  take  a  certain  pony-built  one,  but  I  declined 
the  offer  on  the  ground  that  I  was  too  young.  This 
incident  caused  an  enmity  towards  me  that  prohib- 
ited me  from  returning  to  that  village  to  trade. 
The  old  chief,  however,  warned  me  to  look  out 
for  roving  bands  of  his  young  Indians  who  were 
then  on  the  warpath  with  the  Big  Knives,  (Montana 
miners). 

"  We  arrived  safely  at  Fort  Edmonton,  and  a 
few  days  later,  'Dancing  Bill'  (Tom  Latham), 
an  old  California  pioneer,  came  into  camp  and  de- 
manded flour;  and  although  he  had  no  money,  he 
said  he  was  going  to  have  it.  He  wore  two  six- 
shooters  and  just  took  what  flour  he  wanted.  In 
about  two  weeks  he  returned,  paid  me  in  gold  dust 
for  what  he  had  taken,  and  demanded  more  grub. 
He  turned  out  to  be  a  first-class  fellow,  and  just 
lousy  with  gold  dust. 

"  The  '  Breeds,'  as  they  were  called,  gave  dances; 
the  fiddler  played  to  step  dancers,  who  would 
bow  and  dance  until  exhausted,  when  another 
would  take  his  place.    The  good  dancers  were  show- 


320        Trailing   and    Camping   in    Alaska 

ered  with  moccasins  and  beaded  presents  by  the 
squaws.  This  Tom  Latham  was  a  great  clown,  and 
he  confided  to  me  that  he  was  going  to  show  them 
a  new  '  Walla  Walla  '  step  and  a  '  Hangtown '  jig. 
He  did,  and  coming  in  late  he  danced  until  the 
fiddler  became  exhausted.  The  squaws  looked  upon 
this  as  such  a  feat,  that  they  loaded  Tom  down 
with  enough  moccasins  to  last  him  through  life. 
From  that  achievement,  he  got  his  name  of  '  Danc- 
ing Bill.' 

"  My  acquaintance  with  '  Dancing  Bill '  and  his 
partner,  'Black  Jack'  (Tom  Smith,  of  Baltimore), 
broke  me  financially  and  transformed  me  from  a 
trader  into  a  prospector.  I  furnished  an  outfit  of 
fourteen  oxen,  two  cows  and  seven  horses,  loaded 
with  supplies,  for  a  trip  through  the  Peace  River 
country.  We  left  Fort  Edmonton  on  April  5, 
and  arrived  at  Fort  Dunvagan  on  September  15. 
There  had  been  no  frost,  and  the  country  at  that 
time  was  a  vast  flower-garden.  There  we  wintered. 
The  next  summer  we  ascended  the  Peace  River, 
made  the  Rocky  Mountain  portage,  and  mined  on 
Upper  Peace,  Sandy  Bar  and  Findley  Branch,  wash- 
ing out  an  ounce  per  day  to  the  man.  The  next  fall 
we  arrived  at  Caribou,  passed  up  Parsnip  River  to 
the  Salmon  River  portage,  and  descended  Frazer 
River  140  miles.     I  mined  at  Caribou  in   1869. 

"  Oh,  yes!  I  didn't  tell  you  about  my  first  bear  I 
Well,  I  just  rolled  over  Bruin  and  then,  boy-like, 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alasha        321 

laid  the  gun  across  my  arm  unloaded,  and  leisurely 
but  foolishly  approached  for  an  inspection  of  the 
trophy.  Well,  sir!  That  bear  just  rose  up  with  a 
snort  of  blood  and  began  to  plead  his  side  of  the 
question  with  a  charge!  Say,  I, — ha!  ha! — I — I 
just  left  there !  " 

Then  the  narrator  arose,  and  rubbing  his  legs, 
stepped  very  high,  while  he  crossed  and  recrossed 
the  room,  as  if  to  get  them  in  good  working  order 
to  demonstrate  the  long  steps  he  took  when  fleeing 
from  the  bear.  Then,  after  shaking  off  a  convulsion 
of  laughter,  he  continued: 

"  You  should  have  seen  that  clown  of  a  *  Dancing 
Bill'  the  winter  we  trapped!  He  volunteered  to 
go  to  the  creek  and  set  my  traps  for  a  beaver,  while 
I  prepared  breakfast.  Now,  he  had  never  set  a 
trap  in  his  life,  but  he  declared  that  he  could  do 
it." 

'Again  my  informant  stopped  to  laugh,  and  as  he 
did  so  he  buttoned  up  his  coat,  then  unbuttoned  it, 
doubled  with  his  head  between  his  knees  and  laughed 
some  more. 

"  Well,"  he  continued,  "  it  was  but  a  few  minutes 
until  '  Bill '  had  returned  with  his  hand  beneath  his 
coat  and  solemnly  announced: 

"  '  I  caught  him ! ' 

"  '  What !  caught  one  already?  * 

"'Yep!' 

"  Then  Bill  withdrew  his  hand  from  beneath  his 


322        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

coat  and  there  was  the  trap  attached  to  three  of 
Bill's  fingers.  I  laughed  so  that  it  was  with  diffi- 
culty I  could  release  his  hand. 

*'  He  attempted  once  to  ride  a  toboggan  down  a 
steep  hillside.  The  toboggan  went  over  into  Peace 
River,  and  Bill  was  stuck  head-first  into  a  snow 
bank.  I  could  just  see  his  feet  when  I  commenced 
to  dig  him  out.  He  got  up  and  shook  himself,  and 
said: 

"  '  I  always  expected  to  go  to  hell,  but  never  once 
thought  it  would  be  done  tobogganing!' 

"  Dancing  Bill  joined  a  crowd  of  miners  one 
night,  with  a  bucket  of  black  sand  under  his  arm. 
He  also  had  a  handful  of  gunpowder,  which  looked 
like  the  sand,  and  he  threw  the  powder  on  the  fire. 
As  it  flashed  up,  he  raised  the  bucket  o.f  black  sand 
and  began  to  pour  it  into  the  fire,  yelling: 

"'Here  I  go,  boys!' 

*'  Bill  then  quietly  walked  behind  the  bar  and 
helped  himself,  as  there  was  no  one  in  the  house 
to  wait  on  him. 

"  Poor  Bill!  Years  after  that  incident,  when  min- 
ing in  the  Cassiar  country,  on  Liard  River,  he  com- 
plained one  day  of  being  sick,  and  said  to  one  of 
his  partners : 

"  '  Ned,  I  am  going  to  die  and  I  want  you  to 
bury  me  under  that  spruce  tree,  over  yonder,  as  I 
have  prospected  there,  and  it's  only  two-dollar  dirt, 
so  the  boys  won't  molest  me.' 


Trailing   and  Vamping  in   Alaska       323 


"  Ned  laughed,  as  Bill  walked  over  to*  his  bunk 
and  lay  down  with  the  remark  that  if  only  he  had 
the  old  organ  he  had  left  at  Wrangell  he  would 
play  even  with  this  world. 

"  When  Bill  was  called  to  dinner,  a  few  minutes 
later,  it  was  discovered  that  he  was  stone  dead. 
This  Tom  Latham,  or  '  Dancing  Bill,'  was  born 
on  the  Schuylkill  River,  Pennsylvania.  But  there, 
I  am  ahead  of  my  story. 

"  Once,  when  '  Black  Jack '  and  I  were  traveling 
ahead  looking  for  a  way,  we  came  out  on  a  small 
clearing  where  there  was  a  little  Indian  town.  It 
was  Sunday,  and  the  whole  tribe  was  inside  a  large 
tepee,  holding  religious  services, — a  sort  of  Catholi- 
cism which  had  been  introduced  Into  the  country, 
and  which  the  Indians  had  brought  into  those  moun- 
tains. '  Black  Jack  '  and  I  sat  down  on  a  log  near  by, 
and  listened  to  the  singing.  It  sounded  so  homelike 
that  Jack,  although  rough  and  uncouth,  turned  to 
me  and  said: 

"  '  Jim,  they  are  above  us! ' 
"  Presently  they  came  out  and  shook  hands  with 
us.  There  was  one  old  man  among  them  who  had 
seen  a  white  man.  He  surprised  us  by  taking  one 
of  our  guns  and  presenting  himself  in  a  military  at- 
titude; he  then  explained  that  he  was  an  Iroquois 
who  had  helped  the  British  fight  the  Yankees;  that 
he  had  come  Into  the  northwest  with  the  Hudson 
Bay  Company,  and  here  in  the  Rocky  Mountains 


324        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

had  married  a  Stony  squaw  and  had  thirty  descend- 
ants. 

"  In  1870  I  left  Fort  Frazer  for  Fort  St.  James, 
on  Stewart  Lake;  ascended  through  the  Arctic  pass 
into  the  Omeneca  country  and  there  discovered  the 
Omeneca,  or  Peace  River,  diggings,  on  July  13, 
1870. 

"On  November  15  I  arrived  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Skeena  River,  on  the  shore  of  the  Pacific  at  Fort 
Essington,  after  exploring  a  route  from  our  dig- 
gings through  a  very  rough  country,  where  I  saw 
the  wildest-looking  Indians  I  had  ever  met.  They 
were  very  primitive,  living  with  dogs  and  covered 
with  vermin  in  holes  or  dens  in  the  ground,  which 
we  called  smoke-holes.  We  descended  into  one  of 
those  dens  to  satisfy  our  curiosity,  and  then  climbed 
back  again,  out  through  a  smoke-hole  just  as  rapidly 
as  three  men  could  perform  the  feat." 

Here  Germansen  was  seized  with  another  spasm 
of  laughter;  and  again  he  exercised  and  rubbed  his 
legs,  as  though  to  keep  them  in  condition  for  another 
emergency,  if  one  should  occur.     He  added: 

"  You  see,  we  had  been  invited  to  climb  out  by  a 
very  wild-looking  fellow  who  held  a  large  knife  in 
his  hand,  and  we  didn't  hesitate  for  a  second  invita- 
tion. Those  Skeena  Indians  killed  several  explorers 
the  following  spring. 

"  From  Fort  Simpson  I   took  the  Hudson   Bay 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alasha        325 

steamer  Otter  for  Victoria,  where  we  landed,  De- 
cember 23,  1870.  There  I  met  Alexander  Mac- 
Kenzie,  whom  I  had  saved  from  starvation  at  Fort 
St.  Johns.  He  was  a  nephew  of  Sir  Alexander 
MacKenzie,  who  discovered  the  great  MacKenzie 
River  of  the  north.  It  was  this  same  man  who  had 
put  the  cattle  that  went  wild  on  Queen  Charlotte 
island.  Speaking  of  that  island  reminds  me  that 
there  was  a  forest  of  totem  poles  there,  but  the 
many  hundred  Indians  who  once  lived  there  have 
passed  from  the  earth. 

"I  was  in  the  Cook  Inlet  country  in  1895.  I 
hired  two  Indians  to  pack  for  mi  up  the  Matanuska, 
and  we  passed  over  to  the  Tazlina  slope  of  the  Cop- 
per River  country  where  we  killed  a  moose.  I  was 
told  that  the  Indians  would  kill  me,  when  I  started 
on  that  trip,  but  I  lived  to  follow  the  Yukon  from 
its  head-waters  to  the  sea,  and  enjoy  life  on  Middle- 
ton  Island,  the  gem  of  the  Northern  Pacific  Ocean. 
I  tell  you,  Indians  are  not  such  bad  people  when  they 
are  treated  right,  but  they  have  been  terribly  wronged 
by  the  white  man. 

"  Besides  my  life  in  the  north,  I've  mined  in 
Montana,  Colorado  and  California.  Say,  I  believe 
I'll  get  two  horses  and  spend  next  summer  in  the 
interior,  as  it  is  most  too  confining  out  there  on  the 
island.  I  am  only  sixty-two  and  a  summer's  outing 
would  do  me  good." 


326       Trailing   and   Camping   in   AJasha 

He  then  arose  and  crossed  the  room  to  inspect  a 
map  on  which  was  marked  "  Unexplored  Terri- 
tory." 

And  this  was  Germansen,  a  moral  frontiersman 
with  innate  refinement;  who  never  drank  intoxicants, 
gambled,  used  tobacco  or  profane  language — a  mag- 
nificent type  of  the  western  pioneer.  This  is  a  bare 
outline  of  his  wonderful  life  story.  Imagine  a  sum- 
mer spent  in  the  wilds  of  the  Matanuska  with  no 
companions  but  strange  Indians,  and  that  only  one 
of  a  life-time  of  such  incidents.  It  requires  great 
force  of  character  to  live  the  life  that  paves  the 
way  for  empires,  but  the  North  possesses  many  such 
characters.      Verily,   truth   is   stranger   than   fiction  I 

Three  months  after  that  interview  James  Ger- 
mansen died  at  Juneau. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

O,  the  days  that  we've  numbered  and  the  nights  that  we've 
slumbered 

In  the  lone  valleys  'midst  forests  of  thrills; 
Where  the  water  was  splashing  with  silver  salmon  s  lashing, 

And  the  great  bighorns  looked  down  from  the  hills! 

It  is  not  such  a  precarious  pastime  to  glance  back- 
ward over  the  summer  of  1906  as  were  the  real 
experiences.  Yet  it  is  not  more  comfortable  than 
were  the  many  pleasant  evenings  I  spent  at  good 
old  Camp  Comfort  roadhouse  during  that  sum- 
mer. As  this  was  only  four  miles  from  my  copper 
locations,  it  was  as  a  neighbor  as  well  as  a  comfort 
to  me  when  passing  too  and  fro. 

It  is  a  mental  pleasure  to  me  now  to  glance  from 
the  present  back  to  the  scenes  which  linger  in  my 
memory,  and  to  see  again  those  black,  high  peaks 
silhouetted  against  the  northern  sky;  storm-whipped 
peaks  kissed  into  forgiveness  by  warm  sunshine  while 
other  storms  raged  below.  Again  I  can  see  the 
mountain  goat,  away  up  yonder,  clinging  to  preci- 
pices and  life  with  his  remarkable  tenacity.  And 
such  a  life!  He  seems  to  say,  "Behold  in  Me 
misery  incarnate!  " 

I  will  relate  an  incident  which  happened  during 

327 


328        Trailing   and    Cam  pin  ff   in   Alaska 

that  summer  because  it  may  partly  demonstrate  to 
the  reader  their  attachment  to  the  miserable  ex- 
istence they  endure  among  precipices  and  snow- 
slides,  summer  rains  and  winter  blizzards. 

I  had  crawled  among  a  bunch  of  twenty-three 
of  them,  feeding  on  rolling  hills,  and  as  we  were 
out  of  meat  I  decided  to  lay  in  our  summer's  sup- 
ply, then  and  there.  Of  course  I  should  have 
*'  necked  "  them,  or  shot  them  through  the  top-shoul- 
ders, but  did  not  know  at  the  time  that  a  precipice 
was  so  near.  As  they  ran  over  a  ridge  I  shot  five 
through  the  heart  cavities,  expecting  to  find  them 
lying  along  the  trail  of  the  others,  but  imagine  my 
surprise,  when  following  them  over  the  ridge,  to 
find  a  sheer  precipice  and  not  a  goat  in  sight. 

By  clinging  to  alder  brush,  I  managed  to  look 
down  over  the  precipice,  and  counted  three  dead 
ones  which  were  lying  on  shelves  and  in  inaccessible 
places.  A  large  one,  yet  untouched  by  one  of  my 
bullets,  was  standing  on  the  side  of  the  bluff  where 
his  place  of  footing  looked  no  larger  than  a  saucer. 
The  Wolverine  glacier  filled  the  bottom  of  the  can- 
yon, directly  below,  and  was  about  a  mile  wide  at 
that  place.  A  snow  bank  extended  from  the  glacier 
to  the  wall  of  this  precipice,  a  distance  of  about 
thirty  feet. 

I  decided  to  break  that  goat's  neck  and  drop  him 
down  onto  the  snow  bank,  which  was  at  least  two 
hundred  feet  directly  below.     By  approaching  over 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        329 

the  glacier,  from  the  other  side  of  the  canyon,  it 
would  be  possible  thus  to  secure  the  meat.  He  was 
only  about  forty  yards  away,  and  nearly  on  a  level 
with  me.  Crack!  and  he  shot  out  of  his  niche  in 
the  wall,  and  descended  like  a  bird,  but  when  he 
struck  the  snow  the  impact  caused  it  to  give  way, 
and  I  could  hear  that  goat  bumping  down,  down, 
down,  under  the  glacier,  and  over  other  precipices 
beneath. 

I  spent  some  time  in  looking  over  those  rolling 
hills,  hoping  that  some  of  them  had  not  gone  into 
the  bluffs,  but  in  vain.  I  then  returned  to  where  I 
had  broken  the  neck  of  the  one  who  was  clinging 
to  the  wall,  and  behold!  there  was  another  one  in 
exactly  the  same  place.  He  appeared  to  be  a  year- 
ling, and  had  evidently  emerged  from  around  the 
wall,  beneath  me,  having  tracked  the  other  to  this 
place,  whence  further  progress  was  an  absolute  im- 
possibility. 

As  he  was  standing  with  his  head  from  me,  but 
looking  at  me,  I  decided  to  waste  no  more  meat,  but 
to  sit  down  there  and  watch  how  he  would  manage 
to  turn  round  and  get  back  from  that  point.  It 
Was  a  most  interesting  sight  to  observe  how  he 
humped  his  back  into  an  arch,  and  held  his  head 
close  to  his  side  to  prevent  over-balancing  and  tum- 
bling to  sure  death,  below!  I  became  actually  dizzy 
while  watching  him  work  his  body  around,  an  inch 
at  a  time,  until  he  had  completely  turned.     Then 


330       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

the  danger  was  not  over,  for  it  looked  to  me  like 
an  impossibility  for  any  live  thing  larger  than  a 
fly  to  return  along  the  face  of  that  precipice.  He 
stood  upon  his  hind  feet  and  placed  his  front  feet 
against  the  wall,  by  his  nose,  but  apparently  he 
could  not  discover  any  way  above  him  to  get  out. 

Then  he  lowered  himself,  and  intently  scrutinized 
the  way  towards  me.  He  was  compelled  to  place 
confidence  in  my  not  hurting  him  as  he  should  work 
his  way  along  the  face.  Finally  he  lowered  his 
head,  craned  his  neck,  and  acted  as  though  he  had 
discovered  a  small  jagged  place  which  would  hold 
his  foot,  while  he  should  run  a  few  steps.  To  halt 
anywhere  short  of  twenty  feet  would  mean  destruc- 
tion, so  he  looked  at  me  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Now 
please  let  me  try  this,  for  it's  my  only  way  out," 
then  he  made  the  rush.  My  heart  beat  more  quickly, 
while  he  attempted  the  feat,  but  he  landed  where 
again  he  could  stand,  and  then  again  he  looked  at 
me,  seeming  to  say,   "How's  that?" 

It  required  at  least  half  an  hour  for  him  to  pick 
his  way  carefully,  a  step  at  a  time,  along  that  dizzy 
wall  to  a  place  directly  beneath  where  I  was  sitting. 
I  held  on  to  an  alder  and  peeped  down  at  his  back, 
not  more  than  twenty  feet  away  from  me.  I  could 
have  fastened  a  rope  to  the  alders  and  have  dropped 
a  loop  over  his  head,  but  if  I  had  had  the  rope,  I 
should  not  have  done  such  a  thing.  No;  for  had 
we  not  lived  together  through  a  time  when  I  had 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska        331 

held  my  breath  nervously  with  fear  that  he  should 
lose  his  life?  Now  we  were  companions  in  danger, 
and  nothing  should  tempt  me  to  destroy  his  life 
after  it  had  been  so  carefully  preserved.  I  could 
have  shaken  his  foot  in  congratulation  for  his  suc- 
cess, and  should  have  enjoyed  patting  him  only  too 
well.  I  returned  to  camp  completely  satisfied,  so 
far  as  that  particular  goat  concerned , me. 

I  saw  eighty-three  goats  and  fourteen  bears  dur- 
ing that  summer.  One  unusual  sight  was  a  female 
bear  with  three  cubs.  It  was  interesting  to  watch 
her,  as  the  correct  control  of  such  a  playful  family 
of  three  was  evidently  a  task.  Bears  chastise  their 
young,  and  often  she  gave  one  of  them  a  slap  to 
cause  it  to  travel  ahead  of  her.  While  two  were 
rolling  on  an  old  snow  bank,  locked  in  each  other's 
arms,  the  third  would  linger  behind,  apparently  with 
no  other  purpose  than  to  torment  his  maternal  an- 
cestor. Finally  she  let  the  little  fellows  roll  as  far 
down  the  bank  as  they  desired,  and  turned  her 
attention  to  the  third.  It  was  really  laughable  to 
watch  that  little  fellow  attempting  to  run  past  his 
mother,  to  where  he  knew  he  belonged  without  get- 
ting a  slap.  I  have  seen  the  little  American  black 
bears  slap  their  young,  and  drive  them  up  trees 
when  they  scented  danger. 

At  another  time  that  summer,  I  saw  three  bears 
across  a  canyon  from  our  tent.  I  resolved  to  cross 
over,  as  two  had  turned  back  from  their  previous 


.332        TraiUiif^   and    Campins;   in   Alaska 


course,  and  the  third  soon  would  be  following  in 
their  tracks.  I  had  just  arrived  within  fifty  yards 
of  their  trail  when  the  third  bear  came  along,  just 
as  expected. 

Four  pellets,  for  that  was  all  they  were,  were  sent 
through  his  body.  He  attempted  to  ascend  a  bluff 
in  a  small  gully,  but  was  too  weak  and  turned  down 
the  gulch  tojvards  me.  The  fifth  shot  was  sent  for 
the  head,  but  it  struck  him  in  the  eye,  and,  as  is 
generally  the  case  with  a  bear,  that  kind  of  a  shot 
had  no  perceptible  effect  upon  him.  When  he  was 
about  twenty-five  steps  away,  and  just  as  he  had 
lowered  his  head,  the  sixth  shot  was  squarely  placed 
between  the  eyes,  and  a  little  above.  That  shot 
caused  me  to  step  to  one  side,  to  allow  his  body  to 
roll  by.  He  was  not  after  me,  particularly,  but  was 
too  weak  to  climb  the  mountain. 

Valdez  suffered  considerably  from  the  effects  of  a 
glacier  flood  that  summer.  A  good  portion  of  the 
town  was  washed  away,  and  I  watched  one  house — 
furniture,  mortgage  and  all — go  floating  out  into 
the  bay. 

Several  persons  lost  their  lives  in  the  Interior. 
A  very  sad  incident  was  the  drowning  of  Jim  Mont- 
gomery, with  his  wife  and  child.  The  child  had 
been  born  in  the  wilds  of  the  Tanana,  while  Jim 
was  out  hunting,  and  the  only  attendant  had  been 
an  Indian  squaw.  They  had  concluded  to  cease  the 
vigil   they   had  kept   for  years   on   Montgomery's 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska        333 

copper  properties,  and  return  to  civilization  through 
Skolai  Pass  and  by  the  descent  of  the  Nizina,  Chit- 
ina  and  Copper  Rivers.  Their  boat  capsized  in  the 
Nizina  River,  and  a  wail  went  forth  as  the  family 
drifted  around  the  bend  of  the  river.  All  were 
lost,  except  a  Mr.  Williams,  who  was  also  in  the 
boat  at  the  time,  and  who  swam  ashore.  Some 
prospectors  buried  the  bodies  of  the  woman  and 
child,  but  that  of  Montgomery  never  was  found. 
Montgomery  and  I  had  descended  the  Copper  River 
together  in  1901. 

The  other  summers  that  I  spent  in  Alaska  were 
not  devoted  to  hunting  or  prospecting,  as  my  time 
was  occupied  in  working  my  copper  properties  near 
the  coast.  Ben  Price,  a  good  pistol  shot,  killed  a 
bear  near  my  camp  with  his  Frontier  revolver  at  a 
distance  of  one  hundred  yards.  It  was  during  that 
summer  of  1907  that  a  man  shot  down  six  other 
men  from  ambush  in  Keystone  Canyon.  This  was 
done  in  a  dispute  over  a  railroad  right  of  way,  and 
in  an  effort  to  keep  railroads  out  of  the  interior — 
that  is  railroads  which  would  be  going  in  for  the 
purpose  of  becoming  public  carriers,  and  whose 
owners  were  not  building  the  lines  to  their  own 
properties.  The  present  indications  are  that  Alaska 
is  destined  to  be  bottled  up  for  the  benefit  of  a 
few. 

In  1903  seven  persons  attempted  to  float  down 
the  Nizina  River  In  a  small  boat,  and  four  of  the 


334       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

seven  were  drowned.  One  woman  swam  down  stream 
a  long  distance,  but  finally  sank.  A  little  boy  wept 
when  assisted  into  the  boat,  and  he,  too,  was 
drowned.  A  man  was  going  down  the  river  on  a 
raft  with  his  two  dogs.  The  dogs  returned  the  fol- 
lowing day,  but  the  man  never  was  heard  from. 
Another  was  drowned  near  Taral,  and  another  lost 
his  life  in  an  airhole  in  the  ice,  during  the  early  part 
of  the  spring.  Bundy,  a  colored  man,  was  drowned 
in  the  Tazlina  River  where  Gokona  Charley  had 
been  drowned  the  year  before. 

In  1898  four  men  were  exploring  and  prospect- 
ing in  the  Chitina  country.  At  the  foot  of  a  high 
gravel  bank,  a  stone  that  rolled  down  the  embank- 
men  broke  a  leg  of  one  of  the  party.  These  heroes 
bandaged  the  broken  limb,  threw  away  all  unneces- 
sary articles,  improvised  a  litter  with  a  blanket  and 
carried  their  wounded  companion  out  of  that  coun- 
try. One  carried  the  scanty  provisions  and  cut  the 
way  with  a  hatchet,  while  the  other  two  carried  and 
rested  at  intervals.  They  crossed  dangerous  rivers, 
waded  through  swamps,  climbed  over  hills,  and  were 
days  in  doing  it.  They  used  up  all  of  their  supplies 
and  were  nearly  exhausted  when  they  arrived  on 
the  bank  of  the  Copper  River.  There  they  secured 
a  boat,  took  the  invalid  down  the  river,  and  placed 
him  on  board  a  steamer  bound  for  home,  where,  no 
doubt,  he  remembered  his  heroic  deliverers  and 
their  gallant  struggle  with  gratitude.     Five  years 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska       335 

after  that  incident,  a  few  picks  and  shovels  were 
found  where  they  had  left  them,  and  where  valu- 
able placer  diggings  were  later  discovered. 

Young  men  who  went  to  Alaska  desired  to  secure 
fortunes  that  their  sweethearts  might  be  insured 
a  home  and  comfort,  to  enjoy  matrimonial  bliss. 
Contentment  constitutes  happiness  and  not  money. 
Away  among  the  nooks  of  the  hills  and  forests  it 
may  be  found.  There  where  the  vines  lovingly  en- 
twine the  cabin;  where  flowers  display  their  smiles 
to  the  morning  sunlight;  where  the  babbling  brook 
murmurs  love,  and  the  birds  sing  It  in  the  trees,  if 
love  dwell  in  the  cabin,  there  also  live  the  million- 
aires of  happiness. 

I  was  accosted  by  a  young  man  who  had  returned 
from  a  summer's  prospecting.  He  evidently  was 
extremely  happy,  and  slapping  me  on  the  shoulder 
announced  his  success  in  locating  some  good  ground 
and  selling  it  for  a  reasonable  sum. 

"  Come  up  to  my  room  and  I  will  tell  you  about 
it!  "  said  he. 

In  the  room  he  threw  down  a  lot  of  unopened 
letters  he  had  received,  and  picking  up  a  neatly  ad- 
dressed one  he  exclaimed: 

"  Ha,  ha !  That's  from  the  best  girl  that  ever 
lived!  She  caused  me  to  come  north,  and  I  have 
suffered  and  starved,  fought  and  bled  with  the  devil 
of  the  wild,  for  her  sake.  I  was  financially  bank- 
rupt and  needed  only  enough  to  care   for  her  in 


336       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alasha 

proportion  to  my  love.  I  desired  so  much  to  place 
myself  on  an  equal  plane  with  her,  in  order  that  she 
might  refer  to  her  property  as  ours.  I  did  not  want 
her  property,  but  marriage  should  be  an  equal  part- 
nership, and  I  hoped  to  be  equal  to  her  standard; 
but  she  seemed  not  to  understand.  Oh,  how  I  suf- 
fered because  of  a  love  that  I  feared  I  could  not 
make  happy! 

"  Many  times  have  I  awakened  with  tears  In  my 
eyes,  because  I  was  not  in  a  position  to  care  for  her, 
as  she  had  been  raised.  Sometimes  I  thought  she 
did  not  care  for  me  at  heart,  for  never  once  did  she 
express  a  line  of  sympathy  for  me — not  one  line  of 
anxiety  or  caution,  although  she  must  have  known 
I  was  risking  my  life  for  her. 

"  Apparently  she  did  not  care  sufficiently  for  me 
to  study  the  map  of  Alaska  for  ten  short  minutes,  so 
that  she  might  talk  intelligently  of  the  country  when 
I  had  returned  three  thousand  miles  to  visit  her. 
The  worst  of  all  was,  that  she  never  encouraged  me 
to  do  a  thing.  Mind  you,  I  did  not  need  her  sym- 
pathetic encouragement,  but  desired  so  earnestly  to 
see  those  noble  principles  in  her.  A  man's  life  is  in 
the  hands  of  the  woman  he  loves,  and  she  can  elevate 
his  morals  and  stimulate  him  with  encouraging  in- 
fluence, or  she  can,  by  the  absence  of  such  influence, 
drive  him  to  the  depths  of  despondency  and  possibly 
to  despair. 

"  Because  of  her  indifference  I  doubted.    I  did  not 


Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska        337 

turn  to  drink,  but  to  this  path  I  bridle-reined  myself 
from  the  possibility  of  following  other  trails  to  dis- 
sipation, and  in  consideration  of  my  deep  love  for 
her  I  threw  myself  into  the  wilds  of  the  frontier, 
beyond  all  temptation. 

"  Although  she  is  refined  and  educated,  she  has 
never  quoted  one  line  of  prose  or  poetry  in  all  our 
correspondence.  Despite  it  all,  I  felt  somehow  that 
she  cared  for  me.  If  I  had  been  quite  sure  of  her 
love,  and  had  had  the  necessary  home  of  my  own  to 
have  made  her  happy,  I  should  have  been  the  hap- 
piest man  on  earth.  Now,  at  last,  although  I  fear 
she  has  waited  long,  I  possess  enough  to  make  us  a 
little  earthly  heaven.  Please  be  indulgent  while  I 
read  what  she  has  written  in  this,  another  of  her  all- 
too-short  missives." 

His  face  was  all  aglow  with  hope  and  animation, 
while  he  picked  up  the  neatly  addressed  letter  and 
carefully  opened  it,  as  though  It  were  almost  too 
sacred  to  mutilate.  I  asked  myself:  How  could  love 
exist  without  expressive  sympathy  and  anxiety,  inter- 
est and  encouragement  for  proof?  Direct  words 
of  "  I  love  you,"  are  too  easily  said  to  be  sufficient 
proof  to  one  so  deeply  in  earnest,  whose  love  was  so 
imperative  that  it  demanded  absolutely  moral  and 
refined  expression  In  exchange  for  his  affection. 

While  admiring  the  carefully  addressed  envelope 
that  indicated  the  neatness,  precision  and  ideality  of 
the  writer  I  was  forced  also  to  admire  his  manhood, 


338        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

nerve  and  morality  that  had  induced  him  to  throw 
the  current  of  his  life  away  from  all  temptation,  in 
her  behalf.  As  he  had  intimated,  she  could  not  pos- 
sibly understand.  Before  he  began  reading,  he  added, 
as  if  interpreting  my  thoughts: 

"  Whenever  I  looked  for  that  proof  of  her  love  I 
met  with  disappointment.  If  she  had  taken  an  in- 
terest in  my  life,  which  meant  so  much  to  both  of  us, 
instead  of  being  silently — and  I  might  say  stolidly — 
indifferent,  my  doubts  never  would  have  existed,  to 
have  handicapped  my  success,  and  I  would  not  have 
cared  for  money  through  which  to  obtain  happi- 
ness." 

As  he  read  quietly,  his  face  gradually  changed 
from  an  expression  of  joy  to  one  of  anxiety,  and 
presently  he  murmured  aloud: 

"  And — she — really — did — love — me !  " 

His  face  then  quickly  turned  white,  and  he  tightly 
crumpled  the  letter  as  he — dry-eyed — stared  into 
vacancy  with  an  expression  of  intense  agony.  I 
watched  his  finger-nails  sink  deeply  into  the  flesh  of 
his  clinched  hand,  and  deeper  and  deeper  they  sank, 
but  no  feeling  was  there,  for  all  sensitiveness  was  in 
his  heart  and  it  was  bleeding.  In  steady,  monoto- 
nous and  steel-like  tones  he  exclaimed: 

"Too  late!   Too  late!" 

I  arose  to  depart,  saying  that  I  would  drop  in  at 
some  other  time.  When  closing  the  door,  I  glanced 
back  and  saw  that  the  chalk-Hke  face  was  down  in 


Trailing    and    Camping   in   Alaslca        339 

the  crook  of  his  elbow,  on  the  table,  and  I  heard  him 
murmur : 

"Too  late!  Too  late!" 

As  I  wall^ed  away  I  asked  myself: 

**Did  she  love  him?" 

I  doubted. 


CHAPTER    XXVII 

"  Round   brightly   burning   campfires,   they   would  sit   and 
spit  and  spit, 
IVhile  the  tales  of  some  old  liars,  or  perchance  a  bit  of 

ivit. 
Would  cause  the  laugh   to   circle;  then  for  encores  they 

would  call, 
For  campfire  laughs  and  stories  are  the  heartiest  of  them 
all." 

Here  are  a  few  reminiscences  and  campfire 
stories : 

A  small  husband  and  his  very  large  wife  attempted 
to  cross  the  Valdez  glacier  in  1898,  by  the  man  pull- 
ing a  hand-sled  and  the  woman  guiding.  When 
nearly  exhausted,  the  little  man  sat  down  on  the  sled 
and,  wiping  the  sweat  from  his  face,  said: 

"  Mary,  don't  you  wish  you  were  back  on  the 
farm?" 

"No,  I  don't!  It  was  Alaska,  Alaska,  if  you 
could  only  get  to  Alaska  you'd  make  your  fortune; 
now,  confound  you,  let's  see  you  do  it!  Get  in  there 
and  mush  on!  " 

And  with  a  sigh  the  poor  little  fellow  replaced  the 
collar  over  his  head  and  "  mushed  on." 

When  an  AJaska  dog-driver  addresses  his  dogs 

340 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        341 

by  the  word,  "  Mush,"  they  readily  understand  that 
it  means  "Go!"  If  working,  they  pull  harder 
when  so  addressed,  and  if  in  a  tent,  they  go  outside. 

Two  Irishmen  were  watching  a  dog-team  pull. 
Observing  the  leader's  actions  when  so  addressed, 
one  turned  to  his  companion  and  said : 

"  Sure  now,  thot  dorg  Mush  is  a  foin  puller!  " 

"  Faith,  and  they  feed  thim  on  the  diet  of  mush, 
and  it's  the  promise  of  it  thot  moiks  thim  pull,"  he 
answered. 

It  is  related  of  an  Alaska  dog-driver  that  after 
driving  a  team  of  dogs  all  winter,  he  came  down  to 
Seattle,  and  entered  a  restaurant  for  breakfast.  The 
waiter,  as  is  customary,  inquired  "  Mush?  "  and  the 
dog-driver,  looking  up  in  astonishment,  seized  his 
hat  and  walked  out. 

The  same  dog-driver  was  once  lost  on  the  glacier, 
and  when  asked  why  he  didn't  consult  his  compass, 
he  answered: 

"  I  threw  the  blamed  thing  away." 

*'  Why  did  you  do  that?  "  was  asked. 

"  Because  it  wouldn't  point  north,"  he  answered. 

Prospectors  generally  are  extensive  travelers.  A 
man  by  the  name  of  Palmer  went  to  Dawson  in 
1898,  thence  down  the  river  2000  miles  to  St. 
Michael's,  thence  to  Nome,  thence  to  Dutch  Harbor, 
where  he  boarded  an  English  vessel  for  Japan.  He 
then  went  to  Korea,  and  from  there  to  the  Philip- 


342        Trailing   and    Camjnng   in   Alaska 

pines,  where  he  prospected  in  the  mountain  districts; 
thence  back  to  San  Francisco,  thence  to  Chicago,  and 
in  1902  he  camped  with  me  in  the  Copper  River 
country,  Alaska. 

When  relating  his  experience,  one  night,  while  sit- 
ting by  the  campfire,  he  said  that  when  he  was  a 
boy  he  had  worked  for  a  man  in  Missouri  who  paid 
him  off  in  worthless  bank-notes.  When  asked  what 
he  had  done  with  the  notes,  he  replied: 

"  Oh,  I  found  some  people  down  in  the  southern 
part  of  the  state  who  could  neither  read  nor  write, 
so  I  spent  'em." 

Palmer  once  bet  five  dollars  with  a  stuttering  kid 
that  he  could  spit  nearer  than  he  to  a  mark,  placed 
seven  feet  from  a  given  line  on  which  they  should 
stand.  The  challenge  was  accepted,  and  the  kid, 
toeing  the  line,  made  a  commendable  squirt.  Pal- 
mer followed,  and  lying  flat  on  the  floor,  with  his 
toes  on  the  line  and  his  face  within  a  foot  of  the 
mark,  he  began  to  pucker,  with  a  certainty  of  win- 
ning the  money.  When  the  stuttering  kid  realized 
the  trick,  and  also  his  danger  of  loss,  he  jumped  up 
and  began  such  a  stuttering  remonstrance  that  Pal- 
mer was  compelled  to  laugh,  and  of  course  that  de- 
stroyed his  pucker,  causing  him  to  shoot  wild  of  the 
mark  and  lose  the  wager. 

Seattle,  the  city  on  the  hills,  the  future  gateway 
to  half  the  world.  Is  the  winter  rendezvous  for  the 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        343 

most  fortunate  prospectors.  Here  false  friends 
await  their  return,  and  too  often  the  inexperienced 
fellows  fall  easy  victims  to  the  unprincipled  vam- 
pires of  humanity.  They  may  be  rich  in  pocket, 
but  poor  in  experience  with  the  outside  world.  Their 
years  of  isolation  have  caused  them  to  forget  and 
forgive,  and  now  their  hearts  long  for  sociability. 

They  have  left  the  dark  recesses  of  the  forests,  the 
lonely  canyons  and  hardships  of  the  trail;  and  now 
the  music  of  the  deadfalls,  the  swirl  of  the  dance, 
and  the  sociability  of  the  lower  strata  of  humanity 
are  in  such  vivid  contrast  to  the  howl  of  the  wolf- 
dog,  the  hoot  of  the  owl,  and  the  dying  embers  of  the 
campfire,  that  their  heads  too  often  whirl  in  dizzy 
intoxication  because  of  their  new,  bright  and  daz- 
zling surroundings.  They  meet  false  friends,  but 
they  care  not,  as  their  big  hearts  have  long  bled  for 
companionship,  and  now  their  money  is  as  free  as 
the  dashing  silvery  sprays  on  the  mountain-sides, 
that  flash  like  diamonds  in  Alaska's  sunlight. 

Three  men  who  had  just  returned  from  the  north 
were  enjoying  comfort  in  one  of  Seattle's  hotels. 
One  was  an  old-time  prospector,  in  possession  of  all 
the  peculiar  expressions  of  his  class;  the  second  was 
a  packer,  who  had  been  running  a  pack-train  to  the 
mines,  and  who  could  talk  nothing  but  horse  lore; 
and  the  third  had  been  a  sailor  and  a  sea-captain 
most  of  his  life,  but  had  been  caught  in  the  gold 
rush,  and  had  prospected  for  two  years.    They  had 


344        Trailing   and    Camping   in    Alaska 

come  down  together  and  were  comparing  notes  of 
their  experiences  during  their  first  forty-eight  hours 
in  the  city. 

"  I  say,  fellers,"  said  the  prospector,  "  I've  struck 
a  lead !  She's  pure  mineral  gloss,  a  yard  wide,  with 
well-defined  hangin'  walls — pure  glance,  and  a  fissure 
vein  runnin'  square  across  the  contact!  She's  in  hard 
luck,  and  her  mother's  sick,  and  didn't  I  dig  up? 
What's  a  hundred  or  two,  anyway?  Talk  about 
valuable  properties  and  lucky  strikes !  I  tell  ye  she's 
a  beaut,  and  I'm  goin'  to  locate  accordin'  to  the  rules 
of  this  deestrict." 

Then  the  declaimer  drew  a  cigar  from  his  pocket, 
bit  off  the  end  and  settled  himself  back  for  a  smok- 
ing anticipation  of  future  happiness. 

"  I  caught  a  bronk  myself,"  said  the  packer. 
"  Met  her  down  the  trail,  just  below  here,  where  a 
feller  had  her  corraled,  and  he  introjuced  us,  and  as 
she  was  going  home  alone,  and  was  sorter  skittish- 
like  and  timid,  I  asked  the  privilege  uv  trottin'  with 
her.  Bust  my  cinch  if  she  isn't  slick  as  a  mole,  with 
neck  uv  a  fawn  and  eyes  uv  an  antelope.  She's  a 
thoroughbred,  without  a  blemish,  not  even  a  wind- 
gall,  and  I  said  I'd  put  my  dough  on  her  when  I  fust 
threw  the  blanket  across  her  wethers." 

"  I  sighted  a  craft  myself!  "  chimed  In  the  sailor. 
"  She  was  one  uv  the  neatest  sailors  that  ever  flew 
canvas,  and  when  spoken  she  heaved  to  and  we 
hitched  on,  sorter-like ;  come  to  find  out,  she  had  lost 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska       345 

her  reck'ning  and  I  put  her  on  her  course.  When 
she  found  that  my  cargo  was  mineral,  she  advised 
me  to  take  in  sail  and  go  a  little  slower.  Shiver  my 
mainmast  if  she  wasn't  a  clipper  fer  yer  glasses! 
What's  money,  if  ye  don't  do  good  with  it?  When 
called  on  by  a  ship  in  distress,  answer,  '  Aye,  Aye, 
sir !  '  Them's  my  sentiments.  But,  by  the  way, 
Mr.  Packer,  was  the  bark  ye  were  sailin'  with,  the 
one  ye  were  alongside  uv  when  ye  passed  the  Diller 
Light-house?  " 

"  That  wuz  the  filly  I  wuz  trottin'  with,  and  right 
thar  wuz  where  we  made  the  fust  turn,  and  she  wuz 
next  the  pole  and  close  up !  " 

"  The  one  with  the  top-gallant,  and  long  canvas 
draggin'?  " 

"  Yep;  thar  wuz  most  too  much  blanket." 

"  Pard,  my  sail's  down  and  the  anchor  is  over- 
board! Goin'  to  compute  recknin'  fer  a  few  days, 
then  tack  ship  on  another  course!  My  log  says,  we 
met  the  same  vessel  and  she  were  a  pirate  I  Yes,  sir, 
a  pirate!  " 

"  Do  ye  say  that  wuz  the  winner  ye  picked  and 
lost  yer  scads?  " 

"  Yep,  and  I  say  mor'n  that !  I  say  let's  enter 
some  snug  harbor  and  drink  to  each  other's  storms 
and  head-winds." 

They  shook  hands  and  then  concluded  to  take  the 
miner  with  them.  When  awakened  from  his  medi- 
tations, he  said: 


346       I' railing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

"  I'll  go,  gents,  fer  I  think  I've  been  working  the 
same  drift,  but  fust,  allow  me  to  ask  a  few.  Was 
the  lead  ye  were  follerin'  carryin'  a  black  cappin', 
and  did  it  have  a  prominent  gray  foot-wall?  " 

"  Yep,  the  sail  wuz  gray,"  said  the  sailor. 

"  Was  the  sparklers  a  black  oxide?  " 

"  Yep,"  replied  the  sailor. 

"  Dark  and  sort  uv  languishin',"  added  the  packer. 

"  Well,  fellers,  we  might  as  well  throw  our 
sledges  into  the  brush,  touch  the  fuse  to  our  powder 
and  blow  out !    I'm  with  ye !  " 

Charley  Mamon  was  chased  by  a  grizzly,  and 
when  asked  why  he  ran,  he  answered : 

*'  Because  I  couldn't  fly,  sir!  " 

McCarthy  was  chased  by  a  female  grizzly,  and 
he  came  running  into  camp  with  his  hat  in  one  hand 
and  a  hatchet  in  the  other.  He  was  asked  why  he 
didn't  throw  the  hatchet  at  her,  and  he  replied  that 
he  needed  that  to  cut  the  wind  as  he  ran. 

While  in  the  north  I  came  within  four  inches  of 
making  a  fortune.  I  found  asbestos  with  fibre  one 
inch  long,  and  if  it  had  been  five  I  should  have  made 
a  fortune.  It  is  embarrassing  to  be  a  millionaire. 
When  disporting  a  gold-nugget  chain  in  a  Seattle 
hotel  lobby,  a  man  was  overheard  to  remark: 

"There  Is  one  of  those  Alaska  millionaires!  " 

At  that  particular  time,  I  couldn't  have  purchased 
a  sandwich  for  an  ant. 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        347 

We  entered  a  large  tent  at  Valdez,  which  was  a 
sort  of  a  rendezvous  for  prospectors,  miners,  pack- 
ers and  their  retinues,  and  where  tobacco  smoke  was 
about  all  that  could  be  seen  until  one's  eyes  became 
accustomed  to  the  surroundings.  A  man  in  a  cor- 
ner said: 

"  Bring  yer  carcass  over  here,  pard,  and  quiet  yer- 
self  on  my  sleeping-bag,  fer  a  feller  that  looks  like 
ye  should  not  be  seen  and  seldom  heard." 

The  invitation  was  accepted  with  a  comment  to 
the  speaker  for  his  applicable  remarks,  and  the  con- 
versation was  resumed. 

•    "  I  say,  Lew,  what  kind  uv  a  trip  did  ye  have  to 
Slate  Creek?  "  asked  one. 

"  Just  two  hundred  miles  uv  a  picnic,"  replied 
Lew,  "  except  we  had  a  tenderfoot  uv  a  veterinary 
surgeon  along  who  didn't  know  straight  up.  We 
tried  to  lose  him  on  the  Gokona,  but  the  chump 
stumbled  into  camp  by  accident.  That  Yazoo 
couldn't  boil  water  without  burnin'  it.  Veterinary! 
Why,  he  didn't  even  know  that  a  wart  from  a  horse's 
leg  would  cure  the  colic!  " 

"  Wuz  that  the  feller  what  wore  the  leggins?  " 

"  Yep." 

"  Gee !  That  feller  didn't  have  brains  enough  to 
oil  a  gimblet!  Chris  and  Nick  should  have  had  him 
along  with  them  when  they  were  amusin'  the  bar. 
Say,  Chris,  tell  the  boys  about  yer  bar  fight  on  the 
Copper." 


348       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

"  Out  with  It,"  demanded  another. 

Chris  began  to  move  uneasily  about  on  a  sack  of 
flour,  and  evidently  the  subject  was  about  to  be 
changed  to  bears. 

"  Steam  up,  Chris,  we're  waltln',"  ordered  the 
engineer  of  a  little  steam  launch  that  plied  between 
Valdez  and  Fort  LIscum. 

"  Well,"  said  Chris,  "  Nick  and  me  did  see  a  bar 
and  the  bar  seed  us !  I  said,  '  Nick,  better  shoot ! ' 
Nick,  he  shot;  bar  come,  we  run!  I  fell  down  and 
said,  '  Nick,  better  shoot !  '  Nick  he  shot,  bar 
bawled  and  we  run !  I  fell  In  a  creek,  but  when  I  got 
out,  I  said,  '  Nick,  better  shoot !  '  Nick  he  shot,  and 
we  run  through  some  brush  and  up  a  hill.  We  looked 
and  couldn't  see  any  bar,  and  we  listened  and  we 
couldn't  hear  any  bar,  and  I  said,  '  Nick,  better 
shoot,  anyway ! '  Nick  he  shot,  and  we  came  to 
Valdez !  " 

"  How  long  did  you  go  without  a  hat,  Chris?  " 

*'  About  three  weeks." 

Evidently  he  had  jumped  from  under  his  hat,  had 
never  returned  for  it  and  had  come  eighty  miles  to 
Valdez.    Uncle  Charley  remarked ; 

"  If  dose  fellers  hat  not  peen  smart  peoples  dey 
would  not  got  avay  allfe !  " 

A  military  officer  came  in  to  smoke  and  to  listen 
to  the  edifying  conversation,  and  "  Windy  Jim " 
concluded  that  the  officer  should  be  Introduced  to 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        349 

some  one;  so  he  jumped  up  and  with  assumed  gravity 
introduced  him  to  "  Uncle  "   Charley  Brown,  who 
asked : 
"  You  say  he  vas  a  soltger?  " 

"  Yes,  Uncle  Charley,  this  is  an  officer  in  the 
United  States  Army." 

"  Oh,  I  tought  he  vas  a  Swede !  " 

The  officer  asked  Uncle  Charley's  nationality,  and 
he  replied: 

"  I  vos  a  Timocrat!  " 

Presently  the  proprietor  walked  to  the  center  of 
the  room  and  stretched  and  yawned  as  an  indication 
that  he  wished  to  retire,  but  it  was  an  abortive  at- 
tempt, for  no  one  wished  to  take  the  hint.  They 
sang  songs  and  finished  by  singing: 

"  Round  my  Alaska  cabin  lie  the  goldfields, 
In  the  distance  looms  the  glacier,  clear  and  cool; 
Oftimes  my  thoughts  revert  to  scenes  of  childhood, 
And  I  wish  I  were  a  boy  again  at  school." 

Again  the  proprietor  stepped  to  the  center  of  the 
room  and  kindly  requested  his  partner  to  retire  and 
give  the  visitors  a  chance  to  go  home;  whereupon  he 
was  caught,  and  his  arm  held  out  while  all  took 
several  turns  at  shaking  it  and  bidding  him  good- 
night. 

The  next  day  a  packer  approached  Ed ,  lead- 
ing a  horse,  and  said: 

"  Ed,  I'm  goin'  to  take  ye  up  on  yer  price  for  this 


350        Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

piebald  plug  uv  yourn,  but  I'm  goln'  to  straddle  him 
first  and  want  ye  to  hold  his  smellers  while  I  git  off 
the  earth." 

"  If  ye  are  hankerin'  after  suicidin'  by  tryin'  to 
ride  him  without  a  saddle,  he'll  help  ye,  fer  he's  a 
mighty  commodatin'  cuss  In  that  respect,  but  ye  bet- 
ter leave  me  the  address  uv  yer  relatives." 

As  Bill  hitched  up  his  trousers,  preparatory  to 
making  the  mount,  Ed  took  a  firm  hold  of  the 
horse's  nose  and  remarked: 

"  Somethin's  goin'  to  drap!  " 

When  Bill  was,  as  he  believed,  firmly  seated,  he 
ordered  the  horse  turned  loose,  and  then  there  was 
a  commotion,  for  the  rider  took  two  turns  in  the  air 
and  came  down  in  a  manner  that  indicated  firmness. 
He  arose,  and  as  he  hobbled  up  to  Ed,  he  handed 
out  the  money,  saying: 

"  He's  mine!    Yer  see  I  was  stuck  on  him,  Ed  I  " 

"  Yep,  for  about  three  jumps !  "  replied  Ed,  as  he 
took  the  money,  and  added: 

"  As  the  performance  was  better  than  advertised, 
Bill,  I  guess  the  pizen  is  on  me,  so  we'll  irrigate  I  " 
and  the  two  started  off  to  interview  King  Alcohol. 

Frank met  a  bear  on  the  shore  of  the  Klu- 

tena  Lake,  and  by  killing  him,  established  his  repu- 
tation as  a  bear  hunter.     Dr.  T insisted  that 

Frank  should  accompany  him  to  the  haunts  of  many 
bear,  up  the  St.  Anne  Creek.   They  ascended  about 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        351 

a  mile,  and  stationed  themselves  on  each  side  of  a 
point  where  bear  came  out  every  evening  to  feed  on 
salmon,  and  where  one  could  watch  up  the  creek  and 
the  other  down. 

Presently  Frank  heard  the  doctor  shooting  as 
rapidly  as  he  could  pump  his  Winchester,  and  look- 
ing over  he  saw  the  M.  D.  shooting  at  his  own  large 
black  dog,  that  was  tracking  them  over  the  creek 
bars,  down  below.  The  doctor's  eyesight  was  poor 
and  he  wore  glasses,  but  he  continued  to  shoot  until 
the  dog  ran  right  up  to  him,  and  when  he  discovered 
his  mistake,  he  exclaimed: 

"  The  Holy  Moses !   I  might  have  shot  my  own 
dog!" 

Frank  laughed  at  him,  for  missing  his  dog,  until 
the  doctor  became  angry  and  said: 

"  You  infernal  imbecile !  I  might  have  killed  my 
own  dog!  I  don't  want  to  be  alone  with  a  laughing 
idiot,  anyway,"  and  accordingly  started  for  camp. 
Frank  concluded  to  overtake  him  and,  by  apologiz- 
ing, get  him  back  in  a  good  humor. 

After  traveling  half  a  mile,  he  came  to  where  the 
doctor  was  standing  on  the  bank  of  the  creek,  watch- 
ing the  salmon  swimming  in  clear  water  about  ten 
feet  below  and,  as  he  wore  a  handkerchief  tied  over 
his  ears,  because  of  mosquitoes,  he  failed  to  hear  the 
approach  of  his  mischievous  companion.  The  water 
was  about  five  feet  deep,  and  it  suddenly  occurred  to 
Frank  to  give  the  M.  D.  a  scare ;  so,  acting  on  the 


352       Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

Impulse  of  the  moment,  he  jumped  and  grabbed  the 
doctor,  emitting  a  savage  growl,  whereupon  the  doc- 
tor yelled  a  war-whoop,  turned  around,  ran  back- 
wards and  fell  Into  the  creek. 

Fortunately  he  had  dropped  his  weapon  and  It 
had  sunk  to  the  bottom,  for,  when  pale  with  fright 
and  half-strangled,  he  arose  and  stood  upright  In 
the  water  and  saw  Frank  there,  roaring  with  laugh- 
ter, he  swore  he  would  shoot  such  a  laughing  Idiot, 
just  as  soon  as  he  could  get  his  gun.  Every  time  he 
reached  down  after  the  gun,  the  water  came  over  his 
head  and  caused  him  to  straighten  up ;  then  he  would 
renew  his  declaration  and  Frank  would  yell  with 
laughter.  As  the  doctor  was  making  desperate  ex- 
ertions, It  dawned  on  Frank  that  his  pacifying  efforts 
had  been  a  complete  failure,  and  he  took  to  the 
brush  and  remained  In  seclusion  for  several  days. 

AN    ALASKA    RIVER     INCIDENT 

"  I  don't  believe  I  should  attempt  to  raft  across 
the  river  right  here,  but  I  should  tow  along  the 
shore  up  to  that  point,  if  I  were  you.  There  Is  dan- 
ger of  your  going  through  the  rapids  down  below, 
and,  while  you  could  surely  cross  before  reaching 
the  box  canyon,  a  mile  farther  down,  yet  it  is  rather 
dangerous  to  risk  it." 

"  Well,  suppose  I  do  go  through  the  wild  water 
down  there,  I've  not  been  killed  nor  drowned  up-to- 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        353 

date  and  I'll  risk  being  carried  down  to  the  box 
canyon. 

The  thought  of  the  box  canyon  was  enough  to 
cause  a  shudder  to  pass  through  one's  anatomy,  for 
a  raft  would  probably  emerge  at  the  outlet,  four 
miles  below,  merely  as  kindling  wood. 

"  I  know,"  continued  Ben,  "  that  a  raft  on  water 
is  just  about  as  stubborn  as  a  donkey  on  land,  but 
I'll  take  this  chance,  because  the  rapids  don't  amount 
to  much,  anyway." 

He  pushed  the  five-log  craft  out  on  the  water, 
and  the  swift  current  soon  took  him  to  where  it  was 
too  deep  for  his  pole  to  reach  bottom.  Ben  was  a 
happy-go-lucky  fellow,  without  fear,  and  he  was  a 
skilled  frontiersman,  who  could  not  be  killed,  or 
drowned  under  ordinary  circumstances. 

"  By  George !  He  is  going  through  the  rapids, 
as  sure  as  fate !  "  exclaimed  Will.  "  Let  us  take  a 
cut-off  for  the  bend  of  the  river  and  have  some  fun 
at  coaching  him  as  he  comes  by." 

We  ran  two  hundred  yards  across  a  sharp  point, 
and  emerged  on  the  bank  just  as  Ben  came  rushing 
along.  He  was  seated  on  the  raft,  holding  on 
tightly  while  the  angry  waters  dashed  against  his 
face.  We  intended  to  advise  him  not  to  hurry,  to 
go  a  little  slower,  and  had  laughed  at  the  absurdity 
of  the  advice  as  we  had  run  along  the  trail,  but  Ben 
anticipated  us,  and  with  grinning  countenance, 
yelled : 


354        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

"  If  you  fellows  have  anything  to  say  to  me,  go 
to  the  canyon,  for  I'll  be  down  there  In  just  about 
ten  minutes !  " 

We  roared  with  laughter  as  he  went  bobbing 
through  the  rapids,  and  because  he  had  half  a  mile 
after  he  was  through,  in  which  to  reach  the  opposite 
shore,  we  gave  little  thought  to  the  box  canyon, 
below. 

*'  See !  "  exclaimed  Will,  "  he  is  not  making  head- 
way; in  fact,  I  believe  he  is  losing!  There  must  be 
a  strong  current,  down  there,  beating  him  back 
towards  this  side !" 

We  then  realized  that  Ben's  ride  on  the  river  had 
developed  from  a  mere  joke  into  serious  danger, 
and  we  watched  with  bated  breath  his  gallant  strug- 
gle for  life.  We  were  powerless  to  assist  him,  and 
as  he  grew  smaller  and  smaller  in  the  distance,  it 
appeared  to  us  that  he  was  already  entering  the 
dreaded  box  canyon — that  terrible  boiling,  foaming, 
sinuous  water  serpent.  It  crawls  undertowingly  by, 
where  precipitous  walls  hang  600  feet  above. 

The  sun  sank  in  the  northwest  and  the  curtain  of 
twilight  was  lowered  on  that  dreadful  scene  of  man 
and  raft  flying  into  the  mouth  of  that  yawning 
vortex.  We  could  do  nothing,  and  as  we  turned 
towards  camp  it  was  with  a  feeling  of  certainty  that 
no  power  of  man  could  save  the  life  of  big,  good- 
hearted  Ben. 

The  night  settled  down  apparently  with  deeper 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        355 

darkness  than  usual,  and  the  lonely  owl-hoots  seemed 
announcements  of  death.  Even  Pete,  our  dog, 
looked  sad,  whined  and  cast  longing  glances  down 
the  river.  There  was  Ben's  sleeping-bag  where  he 
had  spread  it  beneath  a  spruce  in  anticipation  of  a 
night's  rest  when  he  returned,  and  there  was  his  gun 
hanging  in  a  near-by  tree.  All  seemed  to  add  to  our 
melancholy;  but  the  saddest  part  of  it  was  the  fact 
that  we  had  been  powerless  to  lend  assistance.  After 
supper,  we  talked  of  the  incident;  and  then  tried  to 
divert  the  subject  to  something  else,  but  in  vain. 
We  retired,  but  could  not  sleep.  Presently  Will 
arose,  rebuilt  the  fire  and  declared  he  should  not 
sleep  a  wink  that  night.  Then  we  sat  there  and 
talked  for  an  hour  about  spending  the  morrow  be- 
low the  canyon  seaching  for  the  body  of  poor  Ben. 
Shortly  after  midnight,  as  Will  was  putting  the 
coffee-pot  on  the  fire,  an  owl  gave  an  extra  hoot 
and  the  dog  jumped  up  and  gave  a  bark  of  recogni- 
tion. Then  these  words  came  from  the  dark  recesses 
of  the  forest: 

"  That's  right,  Will,  for  Pm  hungry." 
It  was  Ben !     Just  before  entering  the  canyon  the 
raft  had  broken  in  pieces,  and  with  one  log  he  had 
been  carried  into  an  eddy  which  had  hurled  him  over 
against  the  shore  on  our  side. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

We'll  forget  the  cold  December,  when  the  north  winds 
played  their  tune. 

But  of  green  vales  we'll  remember,  when  'twas  all  day- 
light in  June ; 

And  we'll  harken  to  the  calling  of  the  wild  life  and  pursue 

Where  are  songs  of  waters  falling  and  the  broad  leaves  nod 
to  you. 

When  one  departs  from  Alaska,  there  must  al- 
ways be  the  feeling  that  one  is  leaving  a  wonder- 
land. The  reader  may  think  that  too  much  emphasis 
is  being  placed  on  that  statement,  but  those  who  are 
in  close  touch  with  Nature  as  there  revealed  realize 
the  majestic  scale  of  the  panorama.  To  be  able  to  see 
a  mountain  150  miles  away  is  wonderful;  and  so  are 
the  smoking  volcanos  and  the  glaciers.  The  sudden 
appearance  and  disappearance  of  mountains  and 
islands  is  also  wonderful. 

Islands  have  been  known  to  arise  from  the  Pacific 
ocean  as  far  back  as  when  the  Russians  were  explor- 
ing Its  waters,  and  some  of  them  also  have  sunken. 
Castle  Rock  came  up  in  1779,  and  in  1903  Fire 
Island  arose  not  far  from  it.  In  1906  Perry,  or 
McCulloch  Island  arose  between  them  to  a  height 
of  395  feet,  and  while  it  was  hot  and  steam  was 
emitting  from  it,  some  men  climbed  to  the  top.  That 

356 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska        357 

island,  before  It  had  cooled,  sank  with  a  loud  explo- 
sion on  September  i,  1907.  Now  there  is  only  a 
sand-spit  connecting  Castle  Rock  and  Fire  Island. 

These  and  many  other  facts  go  to  prove  it  to  be  a 
wonderland.  Even  St.  Patrick  must  have  thought 
It  worthy  of  notice,  for  he,  with  his  magic  staff,  evi- 
dently struck  Alaska  with  the  same  effect  as  when  he 
blessed  Ireland.  There  are  no  snakes  in  Alaska,  and 
only  a  few  tree  frogs,  to  give  one  a  creepy  sug- 
gestion. 

When  we  boarded  the  ship  for  the  States  It  was 
raining  that  continuous  downpour,  which  signifies  to 
the  prospector  that  It  will  continue  until  It  snows. 
The  fog  clung  dismally  to  the  mountain-sides,  when 
possibly  at  the  same  time  the  top  peaks  were  pierc- 
ing through  into  sunshine. 

The  seagulls  forlornly  drooped  their  wings  and 
all  Nature  seemed  In  gloom.  It  Is  remarkable  how 
true  are  the  old  sayings  regarding  the  weather.  I 
will  testify  to  the  fact  that  the  adage,  "  When  rain 
begins  before  seven,  It  will  quit  before  eleven,"  posi- 
tively came  true  In  Alaska.  It  began  before  seven 
In  August  and  quit  before  eleven  in  November.  I 
should  be  too  modest  to  make  an  official  jeport  of 
the  rainfall  to  the  weather  bureau.  A  prospector, 
who,  I  admit,  might  have  drunk  rather  freely  of 
glacier  water  at  some  time  or  another,  declared  that 
it  rained  Into  a  beer  bottle  until  It  was  burst.  He 
offered  to  show  me  the  broken  glass. 


358        Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

Our  ship  rode  at  anchor  at  Katella.  Gasoline 
launches  invited  passengers  to  land  where  there  were 
mud-sidewalks  in  a  newly-built  town;  also  saloons 
and  blear-eyed  gamblers.  Bruised  combatants  had 
filled  the  hospital  there.  They  had  been  fighting 
over  a  railroad  right  of  way  that  extended  from  the 
near-by  coal  fields  to  the  copper  in  the  interior. 

It  is  probable  that  when  a  railroad  is  built,  it  will 
be  to  private  properties,  and  the  poor  mine-owner, 
who  happens  to  be  a  little  to  one  side,  will  be  left 
to  die  a  natural  death,  while  his  property  will  be 
gathered  in  by  a  great  smelter  trust,  that  is  trying 
apparently  to  bottle  up  Alaska. 

As  our  ship  left  the  main,  the  overhanging 
gloom,  the  dissipated  and  bruised  faces  all  suggested 
a  repetition  of  the  dogma,  "  There's  never  a  law  of 
God  or  man  runs  north  of  fifty-three."  But  with 
all  this  there  is  a  call  from  out  the  wild,  and  a  fas- 
cination that  beckons.  While  weak  ones  fall, 
Alaska  also  builds  character,  self-reliance  and  manli- 
ness. 

Our  ship  carried  us  out  into  a  storm.  I  am  sur- 
prised that  I  am  not  numbered  with  the  drowned. 
A  relative  once  prayed  that  I  should  have  fair  wind 
on  my  voyage  to  the  north,  when  it  meant  adverse 
winds  for  all  others  coming  on  an  opposite  course. 
It  is  a  wonder  that  he  didn't  get  me  into  trouble. 

We  left  the  ocean  and  entered  the  calm  inside 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        359 

passage  near  Alaska's  collar  button  known  as  Cape 
Spencer,  where  in  Icy  Straits 

"  His  lordly  ships  of  ice 
Glisten  in  the  sun; 
On  each  side, 
Like  pinions  wide 
Flashing  crystal  streamlets  run." 

It  was  there  that  the  steamer  Dora  struck  an  ice- 
berg, and  in  order  to  be  saved  was  run  on  a  near-by 
beach,  when  the  firemen  were  waist-deep  in  water. 
Dave  Rhodes,  a  government  packer  from  Copper 
River,  when  relating  the  incident,  said: 

**  I'll  just  be  dad-blamed  if  it  didn't  look  mightily 
like  wadin' !  " 

When  one  goes  to  Alaska  in  summer,  by  way  of 
the  inside  route,  one  feels  secure  from  danger.  If 
an  accident  should  happen  to  the  ship,  it  could  be 
run  easily  on  the  near-by  shore;  or,  if  you  were  com- 
pelled to  go  ashore  in  a  rowboat,  you  could  paddle 
It  with  your  hands;  or,  you  might  even  ride  a  spar; 
or.  If  you  could  kick  a  little  bit,  you  could  swim 
ashore,  and  the  light  would  enable  you  to  see  just 
where  to  land.  Yes,  one  feels  secure  In  summer, 
but  it  is  different  in  winter.  Then  the  nights  are 
long,  stormy  and  black — dark  would  not  be  the 
proper  term. 

Probably  you  cannot  see  the  shore  on  a  stormy 
night,  even  If  It  be  but  a  few  hundred  yards  away, 


360       Trailing   and   Camping  in   Alaska 

and  you  become  restless.  You  wonder  how  that 
storm-beaten,  wrinkled  and  fierce-vlsaged  pilot,  who 
walks  the  bridge,  can  know  within  twenty  miles  of 
his  location,  much  less  make  the  many  Intricate  turns 
with  that  boat.  You  strain  your  eyes  trying  to  look 
through  that  Ink  blackness,  and  occasionally  you  see 
the  massive  shape  of  a  mountain,  apparently  right 
in  front  of  your  ship,  and  you  hold  your  breath 
while  that  pilot  steers  the  boat  right  into  it — that  is, 
he  simply  enters  a  crack,  while  you  realize  that  the 
denser  blackness  Is  on  both  sides  of  the  vessel,  and  It 
was  only  the  shores  that  approached  nearer  to- 
gether. 

The  rain  beats  across  the  deck  with  the  wind,  and 
It  Is  with  difficulty  that  you  stand  there,  but  you  are 
interested.  You  want  to  know  just  when  to  jump, 
for  you  are  satisfied  that  the  final  climax  of  that 
voyage  is  near  at  hand.  You  know  that  rocks  must 
be  close  to  the  surface,  where  no  human  eye  can  see 
them,  and  you  feel  that  all  of  the  passengers  who  are 
sleeping  in  their  berths  will  be  drowned  like  rats  in 
a  trap. 

Occasionally  the  pilot  blows  the  whistle,  and  the 
echo  quickly  returns  from  the  mountain  on  the  star- 
board side,  and  the  pilot  bears  the  boat  off  to  the 
port  side,  just  a  little.  He  was  feeling  evidently 
with  his  ear!  You  become  drenched  to  the  skin 
while  waiting  for  the  wrecking  that  does  not  come, 
and  you  wish  it  would  hurry  along,  as  the  strain  is 
almost  too  much  for  your  nerves.     When  you  can 


Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska        361 

withstand  the  severity  of  the  storm  no  longer,  you 
retire,  with  resolving  to  go  down  with  the  rest. 

You  are  awakened  from  your  sleep  by  the  stop- 
ping of  the  engines  and  then  the  boat  lies  quietly  for 
an  hour  or  two.  Just  as  you  begin  to  continue  your 
snoring,  you  are  awakened  by  the  starting  of  the 
engines.  That  unpretending  pilot,  that  epitome  of 
wisdom,  who  can  work  both  solar  and  lunar  observa- 
tions, calculate  azimuths,  find  the  arithmetical  com- 
plement of  logarithms,  build  false  rudders  on  stormy 
seas  and  who  can  tie  all  kinds  of  complicated  rope- 
knots,  now  impresses  you  that  he  has  discovered 
a  rift  in  a  cloud  which  has  disclosed  to  him  a 
familiar  mountain-top,  a  tree-top,  or  some  other 
object  that  indicates  another  entrance  to  total  dark- 
ness. 

,You  are  astonished  at  the  ability  of  that  death- 
facing,  but  duty-loving,  pilot  to  follow  the  many  in- 
tricate windings,  and  you  wonder  if  salt  water  does 
not  course  through  his  veins.  To  follow  those 
curves  is  as  simple  to  him  as  it  was  to  you,  in  your 
childhood  days,  to  follow  the  path  that  led  to  school. 
It  is  as  simple  to  him  as  for  the  frontiersman  to  read 
the  approximate  time  of  day  or  night  by  the  clocks 
of  heaven. 

If  I  were  on  a  winter  voyage  to  or  from  Alaska, 
I  should  feel  safer  when  a  thousand  miles  from  land, 
where  pilots  are  unnecessary,  and  where  progress  is 
made  by  dead  reckoning — but  a  dry  death  is  gen- 
erally considered  preferable.     In  summer  time — ah! 


362     Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

can  one  ever  forget  the  tranquillity  of  a  summer 
voyage  through  those  inside  passageways? 

The  weather  was  good  to  us,  and  the  evenings 
were  so  calm  and  warm  that  when  we  passed  the  In- 
dian town  of  Metlakaptla,  we  were  greeted  by  the 
Indian  cornet  band,  assembled  on  the  wharf.  The 
music  sounded  beautifully,  as  it  came  to  us  over  the 
quiet  water  and  apparently  from  a  wilderness  sur- 
rounding that  little  village. 

I  have  listened  to  a  hundred  trained  human  voices 
in  a  rendition  of  Mendelssohn's  oratorio  of  "  Eli- 
jah," and  It  was  truly  wonderful;  but  even  that  was 
far  excelled,  to  my  mind,  by  a  thousand  orally 
trained  voices  of  the  wilderness,  singing  without 
written  notes.  This  was  done  by  a  flock  of  black- 
birds. When  a  boy,  I  used  to  secrete  myself  near 
them,  to  listen  to  their  melodious  song.  One  would 
start,  then  another  would  add  his  little  voice,  and 
another,  and  still  more,  until  probably  a  thousand 
little  voices  were  raised  in  glad  song.  Suddenly, 
and  on  one  note,  they  would  stop !  It  has  always 
been  a  mystery  to  me  how  that  great  number  of 
birds  could  train  themselves  to  sing  so  long,  and  yet 
know  on  which  precise  note  to  make  that  sudden 
stop.  Fright  was  not  the  cause,  for  they  continued 
to  repeat  their  song  over  and  over  again. 

Their  singing  is  no  less  wonderful  than  the  black- 
bird aerial  drill.  To  witness  that,  one  must  be 
within  a  few  miles  of  the  extensive  swamps  where 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska    363 

they  hatch  their  young.  One  must  be  a  mile  at  least 
from  the  flock  to  obtain  a  proper  view  of  the 
maneuvering.  Few  are  ever  so  fortunate  as  to  see 
this  grand  spectacle. 

Of  course,  one  could  not  see  a  single  bird,  for  in 
drilling  there  may  be  many  thousands.  They  will 
scatter  so  that  they  appear  to  fade  away,  then  will 
form  together  in  a  large  black  ball;  then  that  ball 
will  contract  and  bulge  out  at  the  top  and  bottom 
until  there  are  three  great  spheres.  Often  they  will 
run  up  to  a  point  forming  a  cone,  then  dissolve  into 
a  large  circular  ring  and  again  form  in  mass  and  an 
inverted  cone.  Their  many  beautiful  ribbonlike 
maneuverings  are  truly  surprising,  and  one  wonders 
how  every  single  bird  can  know  his  exact  place  in 
assisting  the  forming  with  his  little  body  of  those 
gigantic  aerial  figures.  Although  we  too  are  a  part 
of  Nature,  human  beings  have  not  yet  been  capable 
of  doing  what  can  be  done  by  those  intelligent  little 
blackbirds. 

The  reader  may  wish  to  know  something  more 
about  that  Indian  town  just  mentioned.  The  mis- 
sionary is  the  only  white  man  allowed  there.  The 
Indians  have  their  own  sawmill,  their  own  electric 
light  plant,  and  they  build  their  own  comfortable 
houses.  Their  children  go  to  church  and  Sunday 
school.  Those  Indians  make  a  living  at  fishing  for 
the  southern  markets.  Their  cornet  band  Is  worthy 
of  notice   anywhere,   and  has   given   exhibitions   In 


364     Trailing    and    Camping    in    Alaska 

Seattle.  I  believe  President  Roosevelt  once  recom- 
mended justly,  that  they  be  allowed  to  acquire  title 
to  mining  properties. 

We  were  surprised  at  the  development  of  the 
coast,  bordering  the  inside  passage.  The  thriving 
town  of  Ketchekan  had  been  built,  and  smelters  had 
been  constructed  for  the  reduction  of  ores  discovered 
on  the  Islands.  Port  Prince  Rupert,  near  old  Fort 
Simpson,  has  been  chosen  as  the  terminal  of  the 
Canadian  Grand  Trunk  Pacific  railroad — another 
steel  band  which  Is  soon  to  reach  across  the  con- 
tinent. 

Just  inside  of  the  Alaska  boundary  line,  near  Hun- 
ter's Bay,  are  numerous  copper  discoveries.  There 
is  evidence  of  an  old  mine  there  that  possibly  had 
been  worked  a  thousand  years  ago.  Carved  stones 
have  been  found,  covered  a  foot  deep  with  moss  and 
dirt.  While  miners  were  working  250  feet  below 
the  surface,  they  broke  into  an  old  chamber  which 
was  105  feet  long,  77  feet  high  and  20  feet  wide. 
It  contained  old  timbers,  that  are  now  mostly  rotten 
wood  and  mould.  It  is  supposed  that  this  chamber 
was  entered  by  way  of  a  side-tunnel.  Very  little 
evidence  of  that  tunnel  remains,  however,  as  it  has 
been  filled  with  lime-stone  leachings.  On  top  of  the 
mountain,  3300  feet  above  the  sea,  there  was  un- 
earthed a  number  of  old  brass  coins,  with  square 
holes  in  the  center,  indicating  that  once  they  had 
been  used  as  Chinese  money. 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska    365 

That  discovery  is  worthy  of  more  than  a  passing 
notice,  and  those  who  devote  their  time  to  such  things 
might  do  well  to  investigate  it.  Judge  Mellen,  a 
reliable  Alaskan,  is  probably  the  best-posted  man 
living  in  regard  to  that  discovery.  It  is  one  of  those 
things  which  occasionally  remind  us  that  Columbus 
w^as  only  an  official  discoverer  of  America. 

Our  voyage  through  British  waters — Greenville 
Channel  and  many  other  passages — was  pleasant, 
even  In  winter.  We  were  finally  awakened  to  a 
dreamy  reality  of  the  electric  light  of  Seattle,  twin- 
kling messages  from  civilization. 

In  Seattle,  little  dog  Pete  Industriously  attended 
to  his  own  feeding,  in  a  way.  He  would  dart  down 
alleys  to  a  place  opposite  the  back  doors  of  kitchens 
and  there  he  would  roll  over,  stand  on  his  hind  feet, 
bark  and  perform  all  the  tricks  that  he  knew  for  the 
cooks'  benefit.  The  result  was  a  feed  of  the  best 
that  was  available. 

Mr.  Beatie,  Mr.  Handrie  and  myself  took  Pete 
with  us  for  a  trip  to  Bremerton.  The  little  steamer 
barely  touched  at  Pleasant  Beach,  and  Pete,  thinking 
no  doubt,  that  we  were  going  ashore  there,  jumped 
onto  the  wharf.  He  had  no  more  than  done  so, 
when  the  swift  little  steamer  turned  out  Into  the 
stream  and  continued  its  journey.  Pete  looked  per- 
fectly foolish,  as  he  stood  there  on  the  wharf  and 
watched  us  leave  him. 

We  remained  at  Bremerton  all  that  day,  and  on 


366     Trailing   and    Camping    in   Alaska 

our  return  we  stopped  off  at  Pleasant  Beach  for  the 
little  dog.  We  searched  everywhere,  made  inquiries, 
and  even  crossed  the  Island  to  Point  Blakeley,  but 
could  not  hear  one  word  of  him.  No  one  seemed 
to  have  seen  such  a  dog  on  that  island. 

About  nine  o'clock  that  night  we  hailed  another 
boat  and  returned  to  Seattle.  From  the  wharf  we 
wound  our  way  among  moving  trains,  and  crossed 
streets  crowded  with  teams,  street-cars  and  foot  peo- 
ple, and  about  1 1  o'clock  we  arrived  at  our  hotel. 
There  was  Pete,  awaiting  our  arrival,  and  he  really 
seemed  to  say: 

"  It's  a  pity  that  you  fellows  can't  go  anywhere 
without  getting  lost!  " 

He  had  watched  for  that  particular  boat,  on  its 
return,  and  quietly  stolen  aboard  and  returned  to  the 
hotel  at  Seattle.  A  twelve-year-old  boy  would  not 
have  used  better  judgment,  yet  a  few  egotistical 
human  beings  contend  that  only  man  Is  capable  of 
reason. 

Pete  was  stolen  from  me  at  Seattle,  and  It  was 
three  months  before  I  regained  possession  of  him. 
He  was  found  because  he  slipped  away  from  his 
captors  and  returned  to  the  hotel  in  search  of  his 
master.  By  the  aid  of  a  telegram,  he  was  in  my 
possession  within  two  weeks,  and  with  his  head  on 
my  arm,  I  wiped  tears  from  his  eyes  as  he  whined 
his   glad   recognition.     At   this  writing,   little   dog 


Trailing   and   Camjnng   in   Alaska    367 

Pete  is  on  a  California  ranch,  retired  on  a  life 
pension. 

We  Alaskans  were  astonished  at  the  growth  and 
improvement  which  the  commerce  with  our  northern 
country  had  developed  in  Seattle.  During  the  pre- 
vious ten  years,  the  Seattle  bank  clearings  had  in- 
creased from  $1,000,000  per  month  to  that  much 
per  day,  and  the  exports  and  imports  of  Puget  Sound 
had  tripled,  and  so  had  Seattle's  population.  Ac- 
cording to  the  Pacific  Monthly,  Seattle's  commerce 
by  water  during  1908  amounted  to  $122,000,000, 
and  was  carried  by  1850  vessels.  Two  railroads  had 
gophered  tunnels  beneath  the  city,  and  one  could 
dimly  foresee  the  future  possibilities  of  all  the  cities 
bordering  that  Sound,  which  is  really  one  end  of  the 
inside  passage  that  is  1200  miles  long. 

It  Is  humiliating,  after  an  Alaskan  has  risked  his 
life  a  thousand  times  in  the  North,  to  come  to  civili- 
zation and  be  run  over  by  an  ice-wagon  or  a  push- 
cart. While  one  of  our  number  was  dodging  the 
street  traffic,  he  proved  himself  to  be  a  natural  de- 
tective. He  discovered  a  thief  falling  in  love  with 
his  overcoat,  so  he  stepped  outside  a  West  Seattle 
ferry  building,  leaving  them  alone  together,  and 
awaited  the  thief's  departure.  He  stationed  himself 
beside  the  door,  intending  to  interfere  with  that 
elopement,  by  his  detective  abilities — and  force,  if 
necessary.    These  activities  of  his  needed  burnishing 


368     Trailing    and    Camping   in   Alaska 

up  a  little,  anyway.  Just  then  a  friend  came  along, 
and  told  such  an  interesting  and  laughable  story 
that  the  would-be-detective  forgot  his  duty  and  failed 
to  observe  the  chief  as  he  walked  out  within  a  few 
feet  of  him  bearing  the  coat.  A  professional  detec- 
tive might  not  have  been  able  to  have  set  a  trap  and 
then  let  the  thief  walk  off  with  both  trap  and  bait, 
but  this  amateur  did.  I  was  personally  acquainted 
with  this  would-be-detective,  because  it  was  my  over- 
coat. 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

We  have  searched  for  Nature's  treasure  in  the  sharp  peaks* 

upper  air. 
Where  hearts  beat  to  rapid  measure,  mid  bleak  glaciers  and 

snow  glare; 
And  although  our  footsteps  quicken,  to  meet  brothers  in  the 

vale. 
We  shall  think  of  those,  down-stricken,  who  now  rest  be-- 

side  the  trail. 

THE    END    OF    THE    TRAIL 

I  LEFT  Seattle,  wondering  If  my  new  overcoat 
could  be  taken  as  evidence  of  the  "  Seattle  spirit," 
I  had  heard  so  much  about.  We  passed  through  the 
city  of  Tacoma,  where  a  smelter  has  an  output  of 
$1,000,000  per  month.  Alaska  ore  and  concentrates 
shipped  to  this  smelter  amount  to  7000  tons  per 
month.  Even  fish  are  shipped  down  from  Alaska 
to  Tacoma  and  then  to  the  Atlantic  coast;  which  Is 
a  parallel  to  the  proverb  of  "  sending  coals  to  New- 
castle." 

We  passed  around  one  of  the  long  jfingers  of 
Puget  Sound,  which  here  extends  far  Inland,  and 
where  the  city  of  Olympla  Is  growing  around  the 
nail.  We  crossed  the  great  Columbia  River — 
"  Where  rolls  the  Oregon,"  wrote  Bryant,  and  Ore- 
gon It  should  have  been  named.  We  entered  Oregon, 

369 


370    Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

the  State  that  is  famous  for  its  apples.  I  ate  one,  but 
it  was  a  Ben  Davis,  and  whenever  I  eat  a  Ben  Davis 
apple  I  am  reminded  of  the  possibility  of  crossing 
a  turnip  with  an  osage  orange. 

We  passed  up  the  banks  of  the  Willamette  River, 
the  stream  that  S.  L.  Simpson's  poem  said  was 
"  softly  calling  to  the  sea."  It  was  there  that  we 
saw  the  beautiful  Mongolian  pheasants  in  fields  that 
were  inclosed  by  old-fashioned  worm-rail  fences, 
just  about  as  straight  as  some  city  officials  we  have 
read  about.  We  passed  one  of  many  old  farm- 
houses with  the  old-fashioned  porch  in  front,  the 
moss  on  the  roof,  "  the  well  with  the  old  oaken 
bucket,"  the  stable  and  the  cow  shed,  the  strawstacks 
and  the  pigpen.  One  could  imagine  himself  inside 
of  that  house  and  partaking  of  one  of  those  old 
American  farmers'  dinners  that  are  too  good  for  a 
king.  There  was  the  orchard,  the  brook,  the  ash 
trees ;  and  it  all  went  to  explain  why  the  children  of 
the  Willamette,  like  those  of  the  Missouri  and  the 
Wabash,  speak  of  home  so  lovingly. 

Oregon !  How  much  interesting  history  is  asso- 
ciated with  the  name:  the  deeds  of  Marcus  Whit- 
man, Joseph  Lane  and  hundreds  of  others:  of  hard- 
ships and  exposures,  Indian  battles  and  death. 
Those  old  pioneers  came,  struggled  and  conquered, 
and  built  up  homes  for  their  families,  while  they  in 
turn  have  built  up  States. 

We  climbed  steep  grades  and  descended  into  Cali- 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska    3TS 

fornia.  As  we  dropped  into  a  deep  canyon,  I  en- 
deavored to  admire  Mount  Shasta,  but  It  had  lost 
the  prestige  it  had  for  me  when  a  boy.  Mount  Mc- 
Kinley,  Mount  Logan  and  Mount  St.  Elias  are  each 
a  mile  higher.  A  perpendicular  mile  would  require 
a  much  larger  base  and  would  be  a  much  greater 
monument;  so  much  so,  that  even  Mount  Sanford, 
only  half  a  mile  higher,  would  look  twice  as  large. 
It  is  the  last  half-inch  that  is  added  to  one's  nose 
which  makes  it  remarkable. 

To  the  southwest,  the  distant  mountains  were  rem- 
iniscent of  boyhood  days,  of  Russian  and  Eel  Rivers, 
bucking  mustangs  and  riettas;  of  babbling  brooks, 
shady  nooks  and  swimming  holes.  Lula  McKnab, 
in  Ker  beautiful  and  realistic  poem,  *'  Mendocino," 
said: 

"  And  as  flows  thy  Russian  River  in  the  flood-time  to  the  sea, 
So,  O  Mother  Mendocino !  turn  thy  children's  hearts  to  thee." 

Here  was  once  the  hunter's  paradise.  Grouse 
drummed  him  to  sleep,  gray  squirrels  awakened  him 
to  listen  to  the  call  of  the  mountain  quail,  and  he 
could  kill  a  deer  before  breakfast  if  he  so  desired. 
Here  one  could  lie  in  the  shade  of  the  pine,  listen 
to  the  sighing  of  the  breeze  through  the  boughs,  and 
thus  renew  his  life-lease. 

In  California's  early  days  children  played  black- 
man  with  lassoes,  and  a  boy's  education  was  consid- 
ered incomplete  until  he  had  served  a  time  as  a  vac- 


372    Trailing   and   Camping   in   Alaska 

quero.  When  he  was  graduated  at  that,  he  was 
properly  recognized  in  society.  Then  how  proudly 
he  would  exhibit  the  large  bells  on  his  Spanish  spurs 
that  would  properly  lock  the  rowels;  and  tell  of 
losing  the  hondas  off  his  lariat  when  lassoing  a  black 
steer,  which  always  roamed  on  the  other  side  of 
the  mountain. 

Young  California  would  scorn  to  lasso  a  horse 
by  any  but  a  forefoot.  How  he  would  look  down 
on  an  Inferior!  These  "  cabelleros  "  prided  them- 
selves in  that  and  their  gauntlet  gloves,  high-topped 
boots,  red  flaming  scarfs  and  their  ability  to  speak 
the  Spanish  language.  They  became  tame  citizens 
by  settling  down  on  farms  and  in  cities.  A  few 
did  enter  the  penitentiaries  and  others  even  entered 
politics,  and  all  because  the  demand  for  their  ro- 
mantic and  preferable  calling  was  limited. 

This  narrative  is  about  ended.  The  places  on 
Prince  William  Sound,  Alaska,  where  was  heard 
not  long  since  only  the  noise  of  the  wild  fowl,  are 
now  teeming  with  boats  on  the  water  and  with 
miners  and  mechanics  hammering  on  land.  The 
laughter  of  the  loon  and  the  quacking  of  ducks 
are  seldom  heard,  as  they  have  flown  to  less  fre- 
quented localities.  Railroad  companies  are  now 
competing  for  right  of  way  to  the  interior  by  way  of 
the  Copper  River  and  Its  valley,  and  when  the  prod- 
uct of  the  world's  greatest  copper  mines  are  being 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska    373 

smelted  by  fuel  from  the  immense  coal  deposits 
there,  then  will  be  established  enormous  commerce 
with  the  Orient. 

This  narrative  describes  and  treats  of  about  one- 
sixth  part  of  Alaska.  There  are  other  rich  districts 
known  up  there,  and  doubtless  many  that  are  yet 
unknown. 

When  Captain  Abercromble,  Sam  Lynch  and  I 
camped  and  ate  porcupine  on  the  Tanana  slope  of 
the  Alaskan  Range,  we  were  then  in  an  unknown 
country.  At  that  time  a  prospector  who  had  been 
on  the  Tanana  was  a  curiosity.  To-day  the  prin- 
cipal city  In  Alaska  is  on  the  Tanana  River.  Nine 
million  dollars  of  gold  were  produced  from  the 
Tanana  River  Valley  In  the  year  of  1906.  More 
than  30,000  acres  of  land  have  been  homesteaded  in 
that  valley.  Vegetable  gardening  there  has  been 
very  profitable. 

Alaska's   output   in   gold 

The  year  of  1909  announces  to  the  world  that 
Alaska  thus  far  has  produced  $300,000,000.  The 
Seattle  assay  office  alone,  during  the  five  years  pre- 
vious to  June,  1905,  melted  $100,000,000  of  gold. 
The  Alaska  trade  with  the  United  States  during  the 
year  of  1905  amounted  to  $3,000,000  per  month. 
Alaska  annually  ships  $10,000,000  worth  of  valu- 
able ores  into  the  United  States,  and  the  product  Is 
rapidly  Increasing. 


374     Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

COAL 

Alaska  coal  must  be  reckoned  among  the  future 
products  of  the  north.  That  country  possesess  all 
grades  of  coal  from  lignite  to  anthracite.  Great 
deposits  of  coal  are  yet  unknown  to  all  but  a  few 
prospectors,  trappers  and  Indians.  The  Indians  call 
coal  "  fire-rock."  The  reported  analysis  of  Con- 
troller Bay  coal  was:  moisture,  2.18  per  cent.;  vol. 
comb,  matter,  12.76;  fixed  carbon,  74.33;  and  ash, 
10.73  P^J"  cent.  Coal  exists  on  both  sides  of  the 
Alaskan  Range,  but  the  greatest  known  deposits 
are  on  the  Tanana  side. 

TIN 

Alaskans  believe  the  world's  supply  of  tin  will 
soon  be  produced  from  the  Seward  Peninsula.  It 
is  more  than  probable  that  English  capital  will  se- 
cure control  of  it  and  not  allow  the  development  to 
be  Inimical  to  the  advantage  of  their  already  de- 
veloped mines  in  England,  as  they  practically  con- 
trol the  price  of  the  product.  It  Is  now  necessary 
to  send  Alaska  tin  ore  to  Europe  to  have  it  reduced. 
The  ore  of  Alaska  is  said  to  assay  higher  than  that 
of  the  Eastern  Hemisphere,  and  it  is  claimed  that 
the  deposits  are  far  more  extensive.  In  addition  to 
the  tin  ore  in  place  there  are  extensive  placer  tin 
deposits  in  gravel. 

SEALS 

The  North  American  Commercial  Company  has 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska    375 

the  sealing  rights  leased  from  the  government. 
Under  the  conditions,  they  are  allowed  to  slaughter 
15,000  fur  seals  annually.  These  fur  seals  are 
rapidly  becoming  extinct.  Japanese  poachers  have 
been  intruding  on  the  breeding  grounds,  and  in 
1906  several  of  them  were  caught,  and  a  few  were 
shot,  by  the  government  guards  while  attempting 
their  capture. 

SALMON 

One  season's  catch  of  salmon  has  amounted  to 
more  than  26,000,000  fish.  This  means  that  If 
those  salmon  were  placed  in  a  row,  touching  nose 
and  tail,  the  string  of  fish  would  be  more  than 
10,000  miles  long,  and  would  continuously  extend 
three  times  across  the  continent,  easterly  and  west- 
erly. 

REINDEER 

At  this  time,  1280  reindeer  have  been  Imported 
from  Siberia  into  Alaska  at  a  cost  to  the  United 
States  of  about  $140  per  head.  They  have  Increased 
to  more  than  10,000  and  are  destined  to  be  one  of 
Alaska's  future  valuable  assets. 

A    FEW    FACTS 

We  paid  about  two  cents  an  acre  for  Alaska, 
where,  If  the  beaver  alone  within  Its  borders  were 
protected  for  twenty  years  the  value  of  their  pelts 
would  amount  to  more.  That  much  was  paid  for 
a  country  that  proudly  claims  more  beautiful  and  im- 


376     Trailing    and    Camping   in   Alasha 

pressive  scenery  than  Switzerland,  the  Austrian 
Tyrol,  Venice,  Vesuvius,  Pompeii  and  the  bay  of 
Naples;  and  which  has  locked  in  her  bosom  more 
coal  than  Pennsylvania,  more  tin  than  Wales,  more 
iron  than  Sweden,  more  silver  than  Colorado,  more 
copper  than  Montana  and  more  gold  than  Cali- 
fornia. 

There  are  59  domestic  and  181  foreign  corpora- 
tions operating  in  Alaska;  also  there  are  26  news- 
papers; 50  Dept.  U.  S.  mineral  surveyors;  more 
than  100  lawyers  and  nearly  300  notaries  public. 

While  the  reader  has  been  taken  through  the  most 
mountainous,  most  picturesque  and  most  difficult  sec- 
tion to  traverse  in  all  Alaska,  yet  the  scenes  depicted 
of  trail  life  may,  in  considerable  degree,  be  accepted 
as  characteristic  of  the  trails  in  other  localities.  In 
summer  the  same  long  days  light  the  way  of  the 
adventurous  prospector,  whether  he  be  with  an 
equally  adventurous  companion,  or  as  part  of  a  stam- 
pede to  a  new  Eldorado,  following  untrodden  courses 
into  the  mysterious  north;  the  same  battle  with  the 
pestiferous  mosquitoes  and  gnats  whose  legions  seem 
to  guard  the  almost  invisible  kingdom  of  gold;  the 
same  examples  of  heroism  and  imprudence,  of  grit 
and  hair-breadth  escapes;  and  in  the  face  of  almost 
Insurmountable   difficulties. 

In  the  Copper  River  country  the  copper  and 
precious  metals  are  generally  locked  in  the  gras]^ 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska    377 

of  rock-ribbed  and  snow-mantled  mountains.  In  the 
Yukon  and  its  tributaries,  Nature  still  protects  its 
measureless  riches  in  great  beds  of  gravel  and  silt, 
and  at  Nome  the  old  ocean  beach  seems  a  memorial 
of  the  scorn  of  the  sea  for  the  world's  standard  of 
value,  as  if  to  say:  "All  the  gold  of  the  world 
does  not  possess  the  intrinsic  value  of  the  moisture- 
laden  clouds  that  I  send  to  thirsty  fields." 

Alaska  has  been  maligned  because  it  has  been  mis- 
understood. We  must  shamefully  confess  that  the 
Hon.  William  H.  Seward  was  subjected  to  scathing 
criticisms  on  the  floor  of  Congress  for  recommend- 
ing its  purchase.  Now  the  true  worth  of  the  coun- 
try is  rapidly  becoming  known  to  the  white  race, 
while  "  Lo,  the  poor  Indian,"  indifferent  to  the  pos- 
sibilities of  his  environment,  will  as  quietly  disappear 
as  do  the  foggy  mists  of  those  valleys  before  the  al- 
most continuous  rays  of  Alaska's  summer  sun.  The 
pioneers  who  labored,  struggled  and  died  will  be 
forgotten,  although  they  blazed  the  way  and  opened 
opportunities  for  their  fellowmen,  for  it  will  be  with 
them  as  with  other  pioneers  throughout  the  world. 

There  are  many  noted  and  worthy  pioneers  whose 
names  are  not  mentioned  in  this  narrative,  as  it  was 
Intended  to  describe  the  country  and  its  conditions, 
rather  than  individuals.  Most  of  those  who  re- 
mained were  men  of  good  principles.  There  have 
been  heroes  in  Alaska,  as  noble  as  any  in  history. 
The  lone  prospector,  ragged  and  destitute,  clinging 


378     Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska 

to  the  hope  that  he  might  find  a  sufficiency  for  the 
loved  ones  at  home,  was  there;  and  if  he  failed,  and 
returned  home  penniless,  he  was  a  hero  for  trying. 
There  are  other  heroes  who  could  be  mentioned, 
among  them  the  noble  seafaring  men  who  walked 
the  bridges  of  their  ships  in  the  many  wintry  storms. 

There  are  a  few  self-important  but  uninformed 
critics,  who  stand  on  an  eminence  of  self-assumption 
and  condemn  all  of  the  pioneers  as  an  undeserving 
lot,  but  such  are  not  worthy  of  consideration.  They 
knew  nothing  of  their  hardships,  privations  and 
struggles,  nor  have  they  the  fellow-feeling  for  their 
brother-man  that  pulsates  in  the  breast  of  heroes,  and 
actuates  them  to  do  noble  things  and  accomplish 
great  results. 

The  frontiersman  knows  no  superior  and  is  sub- 
servient to  none.  He  is  his  own  physician,  breathes 
pure  ozone  and  lives  a  long  life.  He  values  you 
according  to  your  honor  and  integrity,  and  not  on 
your  possessions  or  social  position.  The  frontiers- 
men have  been  the  greatest  soldiers  of  all  ages,  and 
General  Scott  could  tell  them  when  to  charge,  but  no 
one  could  tell  them  when  to  retreat.  It  is  probable 
that  his  "  dead  shots,"  dressed  in  buckskin,  composed 
the  most  formidable  army  of  its  size  that  the  world 
has  ever  known. 

One  thousand  frontiersmen,  who  have  been  raised 
in  the  wild,  if  properly  equipped  with  small  arms 
and    telescope    rifles,    could    successfully    defend    a 


Trailing   and    Camping   in   Alaska    379 

mountainous  district  against  one  hundred  thousand 
invaders.  True,  they  would  employ  Indian  tactics, 
and  every  man  would  be  a  general,  but  he  would  be 
a  successful  one,  against  one  hundred  of  the  machine- 
like drilled  soldiers  of  modern  times. 

The  American  frontiersmen,  who  are  now  among 
the  mountains  of  the  Pacific,  have  descended  from 
the  pioneers  who  conquered  America  for  a  more 
contented  race,  and  they  now  long  for  other  worlds 
to  explore.  Many  Alaskans  can  trace  their  ancestry 
back  to  the  banks  of  the  Missouri,  Tennessee  and 
the  Wabash  rivers,  where  settled  the  pioneers  who 
followed  Boone's  trace  from  Virginia.  My  sym- 
pathies are  with  them,  and  my  ancestors  mingled  with 
and  fought  beside  theirs.  Indeed  it  is  because  of 
that  inherited  love  for  adventure  that  I  spent  ten 
years  In  Alaska. 

In  these  pages  I  have  prospected  over  ten  years 
of  experiences,  and  many  incidents  have  been  lost 
in  the  panning,  but  I  hope  the  reader's  life-trail  has 
been  made  no  rougher  by  our  having  traveled  this 
di^ance  together.  It  is  with  reluctance  that  the 
/wilds  are  temporarily  exchanged  for  the  cook-stoves 
and  dyspepsia  of  civilization,  and  I  regretfully  leave 
the  old  campfire,  with  the  pack-saddles  scattered 
around  it,  and  launch  this  literary  raft  to  prospect 
other  sands,  farther  down  the  river  of  life. 


UiNlVJiKiJlTY  Ob  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


,Y1 


SlRv 


Form  L9-25rti-9,'47(A5618)444 


l.L.L, 


cjop.2     Alaska,^ 


P 

909 
P87 
cop*2 


3  1158  00614  4686 


AA    001  165  938  o 


